


Ipseity

by WalkerLister



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I haven't put thasmin as a relationship tag but it's very much an undertone, I'll put chapter specific warnings in the notes preceeding the chapter, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Post-Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, Yaz is like head over heels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:02:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23432119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WalkerLister/pseuds/WalkerLister
Summary: Eight months since the Doctor sacrificed herself on Gallifrey, and Yasmin Khan is still struggling to move on. However, when she comes across a familiar face who is not acting like herself, Yaz may finally get the answers she has been looking for surrounding the Doctor. However, those answers will be revealed in a way a bit more dangerous than she had been anticipating.
Comments: 85
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "Ipseity, n. Personal identity and individuality; selfhood"
> 
> This story is all planned out and all that's left for me to do is write it! It's offering me some really good escapism at the moment, and so I hope anyone reading this will also enjoy what it has offered to me so far! 
> 
> I am in no way an expert on Doctor Who, but have loved it since childhood and am deeply attached to Thirteen so i'm just trying my best from a passionate point of view! Hope you enjoy :)
> 
> Warning this chapter: description of wounds, not too graphic

Yaz ignores the irritating static which blasts through her comms radio, moving her face away to stop it from grating in her ear. The light drizzle which fills the air falls onto her neck as she does, getting under collar. She feels achy and uncomfortable all over, the night shift really getting into her bones. She tips her head back, allowing the rain to fall onto her face for a moment, allowing herself to feel something other than weariness. The droplets hit her skin like tiny bullets of cool calming the hot exhaustion she’s felt for months now. She breaths out, feeling her shoulders relax a little, and tilts her head forward again, adjusting her hat as she does.

The streets are empty, rows of terraced houses dormant as the night sets in, and Yaz allows herself to stroll, rather than patrol, enjoying the feeling of the solid ground under her feet. She’s been doing a lot of that recently, strolling. She knows the Doctor would be cross with her, that Yaz hasn’t thrown herself back into her life since returning to Sheffield, but she isn’t quite ready yet. Hasn’t been, for months. Because it has been months, since the Tardis, not _the_ Tardis, but a much more basic model, less full of life and personality, had dropped them back off in Sheffield. In fact, Yaz knows it has been exactly eight months, to the day.

Eight months since she last saw the Doctor. Eight months since the Doctor….

Yaz sniffs, keeping her pace slow and meandering as she crosses from terraced streets into the industrial area, to warehouses and high metal fences. She has done her mourning, she tells herself, she has mourned the Doctor and she has moved on. She has moved on. She sighs, tipping her head back again…

She hasn’t moved on, if she is honest with herself, which she tries not to be, in order to keep going through the tedium of everyday _normal_ life, but she really truly hasn’t…

How are you supposed to move on from the universe?

Yaz cannot accept the idea that the Doctor might be dead, never to return to them, never to amaze with her whole being. It doesn’t feel right that someone like her should not live forever, should be snuffed out like she’s not the most fantastic person Yaz has ever met. It leaves Yaz feeling sick to her stomach that the woman who gave her so much, and who had obviously been carrying something with her, ghosting her like a constant shadow, the last few months they had spent with her, should have had to sacrifice herself in the way she did. The Doctor had had no choice, when coming up against the Lone-Cyberman, except to give it what it wanted, the Cyberium. Yaz knows that, and she has had many sleepless nights wondering if she should have done more to stop the Doctor walking away to sacrifice herself. 

She cannot shake that look in the Doctor’s eyes, when she’d turned and left them for the last time, of complete and utter conviction and complete and utter resignation. Whatever had happened to her on Gallifrey… it has been bugging Yaz for the months that have sat between that moment and now. What did the Master do? Well, Yaz had drawn the conclusion that the fire and destruction that had walked into to had been at his hands, but what did he do to the Doctor? She had been talking even less sense than usual when they had found her, and what followed soon after… Yaz feels cheated, for she knows she will now never get the answers she is looking for, but there is no one to be angry with, except for the Master, and he is as dead as the Doctor. instead, she is stranded on Earth, and she tries, really tries to be content with what she has, but that itching desire to run sits deep within her, and no matter how much she pushes it down, being without the Doctor is like loosing a limb. She is grateful for Earth’s solid ground but she is not grateful she is grounded.

Yaz is startled out of her thoughts by a sudden loud crashing, followed by a muffled curse. She turns to peer into the direction the sound had come from, hand going to her torch. Another clanging sound comes a moment later, this time quieter, and Yaz starts to approach carefully. The side door to one of the huge warehouses on the estate is hanging open, and from within, Yaz can hear the metallic sound of something being dragged. Making a decision, she holds her torch in one hand, and grabs her baton in the other, just in case, although she is loath to use it. Every time she fears it might be necessary, the Doctor’s disapproval over the use of weapons always jumps into her mind.

Approaching the door, she switches the flashlight on, allowing its light to announce her presence. “Excuse me.” She shouts, “Can you come out please?”

The metallic clanging stops, but after a few moments no one comes out. Yaz calls again, but still nothing. a scraping sound comes from inside, and Yaz turns into the doorway, running out of patience.

She sees a figure dart out of another door on the other side of the building, and she swears, running after them.

The other person is incredibly agile, and Yaz finds it hard to keep them in her sights as they weave through the industrial estate. Every now and then the person stumbles, their slight body almost toppling, but each time they manage to pick themselves up and keep going. It is only when they reach a chain-link fence, and their arms fail to swing them up and over, that they give up the chase, leaning against the fence and fumbling for something within a jacket pocket.

“Stop right there!” Yaz shouts out, coming to a stop a few metres away, breathing heavily. She stays back, wary that the other person might be reaching for a weapon, but she throws the beam of her torch onto their face, trying to look them in the eye.

Her blood runs cold.

“ _Doctor?”_ She says, voice hoarse. Her heart is desperately trying to claw its way out of her chest, and she blinks away tears that have sprung into her eyes from the shock.

The Doctor, because it _is_ the Doctor, turns to her, face wary and suspicious. “How do you know my name?”

She looks different, Yaz realises. She is dressed in dark clothing, a leather jacket over a black undershirt, and she is wearing black cargo trousers with laced leather boots. Her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, strands falling loose over her thin and pale face. From her jacket pocket, she pulls out a small, alien-looking gun, and Yaz is suddenly drenched in cold sweat.

“Doctor, why do you have a weapon?” She asks, taking a step forward. The Doctor wouldn’t hurt her, she tells herself, she would never hurt Yaz.

 _“How do you know my name?!”_ The Doctor repeats, pointing the gun at Yaz. Her voice is harsh and gravelly, breaths coming in sharp and fast.

“Doctor, its _me!”_ Yaz says, voice catching on a small sob. “ _You’re alive!” You’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive._ “How are you alive?”

“I don’t know who you are, and I’d appreciate if you could get out of my way now.” The Doctor states, voice cold. She takes a step forward, and Yaz tenses on instinct, but the Doctor falters, then, hand going to her side. She lets out a small hiss, and that is when Yaz notices the blood trailing down the side of her neck.

“Doctor, you’re bleeding.” She longs to step forward, but there is something wrong here, as if the world has shifted off its axis, so she stays where she is, sliding her baton back into its holder.

The Doctor breaths heavily, releasing small cries of pain with each exhale. “This is only skin-deep.”

“It doesn’t look it,” Yaz replies, and this time she cannot help stepping forward. As she does, the thrumming power of the gun in the Doctor’s hand can be heard as it is aimed at her.

“Stay. Back.” The Doctor spits, but she is weakening, breaths rasping in and out, and Yaz can see sweat on her forehead. “I need… I need…”

“What do you need, Doctor?” Yaz says.

The Doctor looks up at her, eyes scrutinising Yaz’s face. There is not an ounce of recognition there, and Yaz feels bile rise in her throat.

“How…” The Doctor rasps, her face draining of any remaining blood. “How do you know my name?”

“Because it’s me, Yaz.” Yaz replies, hand hovering just above the Doctor’s arm, still keeping one eye on the gun. “I’m your friend.”

The Doctor laughs bitterly, then, and her knees give way. The gun clatters to the ground, and Yaz quickly shoves it away from them with her foot. She throws herself down on the ground with the Doctor, dropping the torch to the floor and grabbing hold of her arms.

The Doctor tries to fight her, but she has no more strength left in her, and her eyelids begin to droop as she whispers harshly, “I have no friends.” Then her eyes roll back in her head, and she slumps forward, unconscious.

Yaz inhales a shaky breath. _‘Action now, process later.’_ She tells herself, and she pulls out her phone, pressing speed dial on the second number. The first number is the Doctor’s, but she doesn’t think that would be of much use right now. The Doctor doesn’t appear to even have her sonic, and something truly terrible must have happened for her to have entertained the thought of using a weapon. And she didn’t know who Yaz was.

She’d forgotten Yaz.

Yaz allows herself a small sob, head bowed over the Doctor as she waits for Ryan to answer her call. The rain is getting heavier, and the water is diluting the blood which runs down the Doctor’s neck from a small but deep incision. Yaz feels similarly sliced in half. 

_“Yaz?”_ Ryan asks, his voice crackling over the line. “Why ya ringing at this hour?”

“Ryan.” She gasps, trying to compose herself. “You won’t believe what’s just happened.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the positive responses for the last chapter! This was was already written so I thought I'd post it sooner rather than later! (The italicised parts in the story will be flashbacks, btw)
> 
> TW: descriptions of wounds, not too graphic

Graham is fretting on his front step and Yaz and Ryan pull up in Yaz’s patrol car. He startles when he sees them come into view and makes his way down the front steps, face pale and worried.

“Yaz, what’s happened?” He asks, as Yaz climbs out of the driver’s seat, closing the car door behind her.

“I don’t know.” She confesses. “But she’s hurt, and she needs our help.”

Graham nods, “I’ll grab Grace’s old first-aid kit, you get her on the sofa, and I’ll meet you there.” He turns and heads back into the house, glancing only quickly at the back of the car, where Ryan is struggling to both get his door open. Yaz pulls it open and peers down into the backseat. Ryan is sat with the Doctor draped against him, still unconscious, still worryingly pale. He holds a tissue to the wound at her neck, hence his difficulty in getting the car door open.

“It hasn’t stopped, Yaz.” He says tone tense.

Yaz’s stomach clenches. “Come on, let’s get her inside.”

That is easier said than done, the Doctor a dead weight between them, arms draped over their shoulders. The alien gun, where Yaz had tucked it into her jacket pocket once Ryan had arrived, digs into her side uncomfortably.

They make it up the steps, barely, and into the house, and by the time they get the Doctor lying on the sofa, Yaz’s shoulder muscles are screaming in agony. Ryan is breathing heavily as he steps aside, and he shakes out his arms, wiping sweat from his forehead. The Doctor lies before them, pale and still.

“We need to get her jacket off and look for other injuries.” Yaz says, springing into action before she can dwell on any of the emotions which sit inside her like a storm in a teacup.

“Right, yeah, come on. You get her right side; I’ll get her left.” Ryan says. With a little trouble they manage to get the Doctor’s leather jacket off her until she is left in only her black undershirt. The sleeves are torn and fraying at the edges, and Yaz, without thinking, picks up the Doctor’s forearm as she notices red cuts and marks encircling the bony wrists.

“Yaz, that’s not all.” Ryan says with nervous worry in his voice, and she follows where his finger points, to the darkened wet patch at the Doctor’s side.

Yaz swears, gently lifting the shirt up and away from the Doctor’s skin. Underneath she finds a long, deep wound, oozing blood slowly, which looks to have been done by some kind of sharp weapon, or perhaps a claw. Something leaden settles in her stomach.

“What’s happened to her…” She mutters.

Graham enters the room, then, Grace’s first-aid kit in one hand, a clean blanket in the other. He takes one look at the Doctor and his face pales significantly. “Doc!” He says, “What happened?!”

Yaz is not sure who the question is posed to, so she decides to ignore it and instead takes the first aid kit from his hands. “Can you get me some warm water and a clean flannel? Anything you won’t mind getting ruined.”

Yaz’s first aid training is simple, but it is enough for her to clean and dress the wounds on the Doctor’s body. They find more small cuts and bruises over the rest of her, but the torso and neck injuries are the worst of the lot. After about an hour, Yaz leans back, shirt sleeves rolled up, heavy police gear discarded, wiping the sweat from her brow, satisfied she has done the most she can to tend to the Doctor’s wounds. The woman had been eerily silent throughout, only breathing more heavily when Yaz had been attending to her worst injuries. She is hot, which is alarming, seeing as the Doctor normally runs quite cold, and Ryan places a cool cloth against her forehead as Graham clears away the bloody water and flannel.

“Should we try and get her into something more comfortable?” Ryan asks, but Yaz shakes her head.

“I don’t want to disturb her any more than we have to.” She grabs a blanket off the table, where Graham had left it, and drapes it over the Doctor’s sleeping form. And then finally, finally, she allows herself a moment to step back and breath, dropping into a chair at the table. She puts her head into her hands, eyes stinging with tears. She knows she will be in trouble with her superiors, having apparently disappeared in the middle of her shift, but she cannot bring herself to care right now. The woman lying on the couch a few feet away occupies all her thoughts, and they chase each other round and round in a never-ending whirlpool.

“Yaz…” Ryan says carefully, and she looks up to see him taking a step towards her, looking concerned. Graham has re-entered the room, and leans against the doorway, arms crossed. “What happened, Yaz?”

“She didn’t know who I was.” She begins, voice croaking. She sniffs, wiping a tear away from the corner of her eye. “She was in a warehouse, doing something, I don’t know, and then she tried to run when I called to her, but she didn’t get far. She had a gun, and she threatened me.”

“ _What?”_ Ryan asks, brow furrowed.

Yaz nods. “I don’t… I don’t think she remembers us. I’ve never seen her like that, it was like she was a completely different person.”

“Who knows where she’s been.” Graham says, voice sad. “But…. She’s alive, and that’s got to be a good thing, right?”

“Yeah, ‘course.” Ryan nods. “Just not in a terribly good state.”

Yaz snaps then, “’ _Not in a terribly good state’?_ She’s badly wounded, looks like she’s been restrained, and she pointed a gun at me and didn’t know who I was! She’s alive, but she’s not… she’s not herself anymore.” Yaz cannot help it then, and salty tears make their way down her cheeks. Both men move forward, Ryan crouching down next to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. They are all aware that, out of the three of them, she had been most aggrieved by the Doctor’s sacrifice, the one who had found it hardest to move on. The one who never had.

“It might be because she’s sick Yaz, maybe she’s just confused.” Ryan tries to reason, tone kind but in no way patronising. “Maybe we just need to give her time to heal a bit?”

Graham looks on proudly at his grandson, a small smile on his face.

Yaz sniffs, nodding her head at Ryan’s words, although that leaden weight inside her is not so easily convinced. “Yeah, you’re right, we should give her some time to rest… My boss is gonna kill me.”

“Get yourself back to the station, tell him you had a family emergency.” Graham says kindly, moving towards the Doctor, carefully turning over the cloth on her forehead.

Yaz rises, running a hand over her now messy braid. “I did, in a way.”

“Get outta here, kiddo. Come back when you’re ready.” Graham says, pulling her in for a brief hug. Yaz savours the comfort of his embrace, finding the comfort of a friend grounds her. Graham steps back, looking to the Doctor. “We’ll look after.”

“Call me if anything happens.” Yaz says, heading towards the door.

“We will.” Ryan says.

With one last look backwards at the Doctor, Yaz lets herself out of the house. 

* * *

_‘Bo sho no fro!’ A Judoon guard announces, and the Doctor startles, limbs flailing in the air as she scrambles up from her place on the floor. Limbs stiff, she stretches them out._

_“Do you mind giving us a bit more of a gentle wake-up call next time?” She complains indignantly, but the Judoon ignores her, used to her comments after weeks of guarding her. He gestures towards the open door of her cell, indicating she should follow him. “Why? Where are we going?” The Doctor demands but gets no answer. The Judoon simply turns and heads out the room, expecting the Doctor to follow like a lap dog._

_She sighs, running a hand through her hair. It is getting longer, and she cannot tell if she likes it or not, and right now it is a mess of knots. Weeks of imprisonment will do that to you, she thinks, trying to blow the cobwebs out of the edges of her mind. Solitary confinement is leaving her slightly… on edge, yes, that’s a nice way of phrasing it, she thinks. Thanks Doctor- you’re welcome Doctor._

_“Bo Sho Fo!” The Judoon guard shouts._

_“Ugh, fine! I’m coming!” The Doctor says, traipsing her way out of the cell._

_She follows the guard down the featureless prison corridor, all solid doors and windowless cells. Normally, they turn right towards the cafeteria, but this time they turn left, and the Doctor narrows her eyes._

_“This is new.” She remarks offhandedly. This is new, and new can mean good! But sometimes, it can mean bad, and with her track record at the moment, the Doctor supposes this can only mean bad things. She sighs._

_Her head hurts. It hasn’t stopped hurting since Gallifrey, and not only that but it won’t stop spinning with everything she knows now. She finds it wandering sometimes, in the lonely hours spent in a cell, wandering and wondering about how many of her there are out there, what they are like. Only, she does not think too hard because if she does she unsettles herself. For the timelords to have wiped her memory… the things she may have done for them…. she shakes her head, drawing herself back into the present._

_You did it again, Doctor- yes, thank you, Doctor. Got that!_

_The Judoon stops her at a blank metal door, automating the door so that it slides open with a mechanical click. The Judoon grunts and gestures for her to step inside, which she does, with a suspicious glance at her guard._

_She is brought up short by the figure who awaits her in the sparse room, decorated, or rather, not decorated, quite like her cell. Gat turns as she enters, eyes narrowing as she takes the Doctor in, looking her up and down._

_“The Doctor, yes?” She asks the Judoon guard, who nods,_

_The Doctor gives her a smile which holds no niceties. “That’s me.”_

_“Well, well, well. This is new.” She remarks._

_“How are you here?” The Doctor asks, crossing her arms._

_Gat frowns. “Oh, hang on. You didn’t regenerate whilst undercover, did you? That would be a first, no matter how many scrapes you seem to get into.”_

_The Doctor can feel her hearts thudding in her chest. “No.” Gat cannot be here, because she saw the woman turned to dust in front of her eyes. Unless… “Hang on, have you never met me before?”_

_“Well not in this form.” Gat remarks. “And yet you seem to know me?”_

_“Hmm. What? No. No, just had a friend who looks like you, but without so much…” She gestures to the overall haughtiness of the Gat’s get up. The other woman raises an eyebrow. “You know.” The Doctor finishes lamely. This is the bad thing, she is sure. An instinctive alarm is going off in her brains. “Who are you?”_

_“I am officer Gat of the Division, and you, Doctor, are our prime agent.”_

_“Am I?” The Doctor asks, feigning ignorance. “Good for me…I… don’t remember that. I assure you, you just look very similar to an old friend of mine. I’m getting on you see, forget faces, sometimes.”_

_Gats surveys her, and the Doctor shows her best poker face. This body is quite good at putting on a face, it has worked on the Fam loads of times. It always leaves a bitter taste in her mouth when she does it, but it’s best they don’t know things about her, best she allow them to simply enjoy what the universe has to offer. The events on Gallifrey are already far too much than they should know._

_Finally, eventually, apparently convinced, Gat rolls her eyes. “You’re just an older version.” She turns to the guard. “Have her mind wiped. I thought we might have got you this time…” She mutters._

_“Hang on, you have got me…” The Doctor says backtracking. There is no way she is getting mind wiped, now. Good for you, Doctor- thanks, Doctor. The swallows, tongue wetting her bottom lip. “You’re from the Division.”_

_Gat’s eyes widen. “So, you do know who I am? Have you been trying to trick me?!”_

_“No!” The Doctor, holding a hand out to reassure. “No, I promise, I am an older version of myself than the one I think you know. Trust me, I’m much, much older. And let’s just say a very complicated series of events played out and now I know much more about myself then I am sure you and your Division ever intended me to know.”_

_Gat’s eyes are wide, and she is breathing heavily._

_The Doctor smiles, pulling her hand back and curling it into a fist. She raises her chin. “Yeah, that’s right. Oh, what? Did you think this would be hidden from me for the rest of my life? You don’t even know how long that will be, so think again before you try and fool me. Now, tell me, why are you here?”_

_Gat bites the inside of her cheek, looking bowdlerized. She sighs. “Alright. A younger version of you has run off, and we’ve been trying to locate you. The Judoon dragged you in on our orders. Any regeneration of the Doctor will be brought to us, if they’re not who we’re looking for, their memory gets wiped.”_

_The Doctor’s lip curls. “Oh, and it took you weeks to get here, did it, seeing as I’m apparently your ‘prime agent’?”_

_Gat smirks. “Well, we wanted to let you stew for a bit, think over what you’d done. Turns out you aren’t the version of yourself we’re looking for, but this is interesting nonetheless….” She stalks forward, a long finger trailing over the sleek metal wall. “I really should wipe your memory, but I suppose Tecteun will want to speak with you, seeing as you know things you really shouldn’t.”_

_The Doctor tries not to let her surprise show, even though both her hearts skip a beat. “Tecteun?”_

_“You know who they are, yes?” Gat asks, an eyebrow raised. “How do you know all of this?”_

_“It’s a long story,” The Doctor says dismissively. She finds her patience is wearing thin, and Gat’s pompous attitude is really stating to get on her already frazzled nerves. “Now, are you going to take me to Tecteun or not?”_

_Come on, Doctor, dive head-long into it, just like with everything else, she tells herself, even as her head spins and aches and her hearts thud thud thud in her chest._

_“Very well, Gat says, pulling a teleporter from her pocket. She holds out her hand. “You’ll have to take it, I’m afraid.”_

_“Teleport, nothing else.” The Doctor states. She is very aware that Gat might be using this opportunity to wipe her mind through touch telepathy. “I’m sure Tecteun will be wanting to know everything I have to tell them.”_

_Gat rolls her eyes, as if her intention a few moments ago hadn’t been to violate the Doctor in such a way. “Yes, fine. Now come on, I’m already going to be in trouble because of you.”_

_The Doctor clenches her jaw, no nonsense. She approaches Gat, taking the outstretched hand in her own. The silvery-grey of the walls around them begins to distort and break up into silver blades of light and colour as the teleporter takes them to… well, wherever they’re going._

_You probably should have checked that with her, Doctor- Yes, thank you Doctor._

* * *

  
Graham is snoring lightly in his armchair, and Ryan rolls his eyes. _‘That ‘keeping watch’ lasted a long time, then’_ , he thinks. Morning light is beginning to seep in from under the curtains, and when Ryan glances at the clock on his phone, it tells him five am is nearing.

He stretches his aching limbs out, hearing his joints pop. Thank goodness he has no classes today, otherwise he’d be truly screwed. The engineering course he is currently enrolled him is hard work, but he does not regret it for one moment. He has thought many a time since he was accepted about what the Doctor would say, how proud she would be that he had followed what he was interested in. She had tried her best to teach him what she could, but Tardis technology was slightly different from human, and she always managed to go off on long-winded tangents whenever she tried to teach him something. Still, he knew she’d be proud. Maybe he has a chance to tell her now, if she recovers from whatever amnesia-like state Yaz described her as being in. Something in the way the other woman had spoken about it had sent a cold chill down his spine; she had seemed genuinely spooked, and it wasn’t easy to spook Yaz.

His phone slips from his hand as he stretches, and it hits the table with a loud thud. He winces and looks over to see Graham rouse slightly before continuing to snore. The Doctor however…

She startles upright, immediately on the defence. Ryan jumps as she does, conscious of her many wounds, and how much damage she might be doing to herself in moving so quickly. Her eyes are wide, breathing fast and shallow. There is sweat on her brow.

“Oh, hey,” Ryan says, “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, Doctor.”

She looks over at him, eyes narrowing, scanning him up and down. Scrutinising. “Where am I?”

“In mine and Graham’s front room,” Ryan says, deciding that remaining seated and positioning his body in the Doctor’s direction might be a better idea than standing and towering over her. Something cold prickles at his neck.

The Doctor looks around, eyes taking in everything like a bird of prey might survey its surroundings. She is certainly very twitchy. “And where is _that?”_

“Err,” Ryan pauses. “Sheffield.”

The Doctor sighs.

“Yorkshire. England. Earth?” Ryan says.

The Doctor’s lip curls. “ _Earth._ Of course.”

Ryan opens his mouth and then closes it. The Doctor looks down at herself, wincing slightly as she pulls on her wound as she sits up further. She frowns as she notices that her jacket and boots are missing. “Where is my-” She pauses, noticing the alien-gun on the table. Her jaw clenches, and Ryan can sense a thrumming tension under her skin.

“Hey, Doctor, it’s okay, it’s only us.” He tries to reassure her. She is shuffling to the edge of the sofa, and Ryan fights the indecision of whether to get up or not.

“I don’t know who you are, and I don’t appreciate you taking my possessions from me.” She spits through clenched teeth, shaking arms braced to help her stand.

“What d’ya mean you don’t know who we are?” Ryan asks. ‘Keep her talking’, he tells himself ‘Keep her talking and she’ll tire herself out. Anyway, normally she loves talking.’ “Doctor, what happened to you?”

“ _How do you know my name?”_ She spits. She scoffs. “Oh, don’t tell me, you’ve been coerced into something, haven’t you? Who was it? Ha, they’d have to be desperate to be relying on humans.”

“Doctor,” Ryan says, trying to keep his voice calm despite his rising panic. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Look, I think you might be sick, or something, you’re not making any sense.”

“How dare you!” She spits, and she tries to get to her feet. Unfortunately, they collapse under her as soon as she puts weight on them, and she falls to the floor with a cry. Graham startles awake in his chair as Ryan darts forward. He puts a hand on the Doctor’s arm to help her up, but she fights against him, limbs flailing and he has to lean back to avoid getting smacked in the face.

“Ryan! What’s-” Graham says, darting up from his chair.

“Hide the gun, Graham!” Ryan commands, and Graham rushes to the table, taking the gun off the table, hesitating for a moment before heading into the hallway.

“No!” The Doctor cries harshly, trying and failing once again to get to her feet. Ryan’s heart beats frantically in his chest as he worries about how much damage she could be doing to her wounds. He manages to take a hold of her arms and keep his grip, hoping to wait it out until the Doctor’s energy fades. “Who do you think you are?” She spits, eyes wild, lids drooping.

“We’re your friends, we’re looking out for ya’.” Ryan says, stomach clenching.

She scoffs, going slack against his grip. “Humans and their obsession with friends. I don’t have friends.”

And then she’s slumping completely against him, lost to the world, and Ryan allows himself to just hold her against him for a moment, trying to calm his palpitating heart. Yaz had been right, the Doctor is not herself, and he can feel the worried terror he’d seen in Yaz’s eyes take root in his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support on this story so far- I'm glad to hear so many people are interested! Hope you enjoy this one!
> 
> TW: non-con drug use

“I think you’re right, Yaz, I think this is way more than just delirium.” Ryan states stressfully as they finally manage to manoeuvre the Doctor onto the bed in the spare bedroom. It is a little dusty and rather crammed, but they are sure the occupant won’t mind.

“She seems like a completely different person, right?” Yaz says, checking on the Doctor’s wounded side.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s almost like there’s someone else in her body.” Ryan says, taking a step back to allow Yaz to check the wounds.

“But she goes by the same name.” Graham says from his place by the door.

“Could be a coincidence, ‘Doctor’ is a popular title, if not a conventional _name.”_ Ryan shrugs.

“We need to ask her some questions, next time she’s awake.” Yaz decides. The wounds, fortunately, haven’t sustained any further damage from the Doctor’s attempt to grab her weapon and their rather precarious manoeuvre of her into the bedroom. She is still breathing heavily, and her hair is clinging to the back of her neck. Yaz carefully reaches behind her neck and pulls out the tie pulling it back; it’ll be comfier that way. She pauses. “Her hair is quite a bit longer.” And it is, reaching her shoulders. Yaz’s stomach twists. “She must have been away from us for some time.”

“And we really need to find out _where_ she’s been.” Ryan states. He is stood by the window, early morning light streaming in behind him. “We need answers.”

“We’ve needed those for months, son.” Graham remarks. “And if our Doctor was evasive, I think this one might be even worse.”

“Don’t say things like that, Graham.” Yaz chastises him, annoyance flaring in her. “Don’t… make a joke out of it.”

Graham looks taken aback, but certainly not offended. This is a sore spot, has been for months, and he understands. “I wasn’t Yaz, I know you know that. It’s just… she’s back, she’s here, she’s alive, and yet, how can we hope to understand and help her when she’s in this state?”

“I know, I understand what you’re saying.” Yaz says, running a hand through her hair. “I really do. It’s like… suddenly she’s back, and it’s like the mysteries of the universe could actually be answered and yet, what we feared for her has happened. She’s obviously in a bad way. Does this have to do with what happened on Gallifrey, does it not?”

“I dunno, love, but let’s just see what we can get from her and then we’ll go from there, yeah?” Graham says, smiling kindly. Yaz smiles back.

“Yeah. Cheers Graham.”

“Anytime. Now, I’m gonna put the kettle on, anything else I can get whilst I’m at it?”

Yaz puts a hand to the Doctor’s forehead. She is still worryingly hot. “Some more cool cloths, if you’ve got ‘em.”

“I’ll grab those, Yaz.” Ryan offers. Graham nods, leaving the room. Ryan goes to follow, but Yaz calls his name before he can leave. “Ryan, look, I know we’d all agreed to move on, but…”

“Yaz, I understand.” Ryan says, “She’s still part of our family. We help her now, we figure out the logistics later.”

She sighs, shooting him a small smile, and he leaves the room with a soft tap on her shoulder. she watches him go sadly. His words of a few months ago reverberate around her head. It is as if they had fallen into a tune of life back on earth, but now the Doctor is back, suddenly a new note has appeared on the sheet music, and the finger, upon playing that note, strikes a dull chord. Ryan and Graham had been happy to listen to the tune of before, but Yaz… she finds she prefers the new one.

“They’re glad to see you, really.” She whispers to the sleeping Doctor. “It’s just unexpected. But that’s your style, isn’t it?” She smiles fondly, and allows herself to fall into the fantasy that this is her Doctor, sleeping next to her, until Ryan barges into the room again, almost spilling the water he is balancing so precariously in a bowl, and the spell is broken. 

* * *

_The Doctor lets out a gasping breath, stabilising herself as they rematerialize. She gets a glimpse of a polished burgundy floor and glinting golden lights as she places her hands on her knees, getting her breath back._

_“Ugh, nasty feeling in the back of my mouth, always happens with portable teleporters, that happen to you?” She asks Gat, running her tongue around her mouth._

_Gat gives her a long look. “General.” She says, but she is not speaking to the Doctor._

_The Doctor turns, and falters. And then, she is still, more still than she thinks this body has ever, naturally, been. For there, having turned to look at them upon their arrival, is Tecteun._

_He surveys them with curious, calculating eyes, eyebrows raised a little in surprise. His dress is more adorned and sumptuous than Gat’s, denoting his rank as the General. “Officer Gat,” He says, and his voice is deep and smooth. “would you care to enlighten me as to what is happening here?”_

_His eyes do not leave the Doctor as Gat replies, and the Doctor squares her shoulders back and hold his gaze._

_“She knows, General. And yet… she says she is much older.” Gat explains._

_Tecteun is silent for a moment, a small tick in his cheek his only giveaway. “Leave us. Debrief.” He finally says._

_Gat does, and, if the Doctor were not so fixated on Tecteun, she might have noticed the small nod Gat gave her commander before leaving the room._

_There is a long silence then, as the Doctor and Tecteun size each other up._ Come on, Doctor, just concentrate on looking intimidating enough, then you can deal with this _, she tells herself._

_After a moment, Tecteun gives her a small smile. “How old are you, then?”_

_The Doctor scrunches up her face as she thinks. “Do you know what, I think I’ve actually lost count.”_

_“Oh, that long?” Tectuen says politely, moving forward a little. There is a large table in the room, dark wood polished to perfection, and Tecteun drags a finger along the surface of the table as he moves closer to the Doctor._

_“Oh yes, that long.” There is an internal battle going in inside her brains, and she thanks herself that this regeneration is so very good at bottling things up that she can keep down the urge to spit it all back in Tecteun’s face that she has seen what will happen to Gallifrey, has seen how all this bombasity will be for nothing, all this pompous ranking and bowing that the Doctor has always despised will bring the Timelords nothing but destruction, more than once._

Play the long game, Doctor, can’t reveal your hand just yet- yes, thank you Doctor, got that!

_“Where are we?” She asks._

_“Oh, do you like it?” Tecteun asks, looking around the luxurious room. “It’s my own personal craft. You see, I’ve had to take the search for you into my own hands. Well, my hands and my loyalist followers. You always have had such an adventurous little streak; I suppose you couldn’t help wanting to run off and see more.”_

_Little? She thinks of Ruth, well, herself, but it’s easier to call her Ruth. The Doctor sniffs. “Apparently you’ve trained me well, I must be quite hard to track down.”_

_“Oh yes,” Tecteun concedes. “But somehow, we’ve come across you, and somehow, you seem to know about all this…”_

_“Yes, I think I probably know more- much more, than you ever intended me too.” The Doctor says stonily._

_“How?” Tecteun’s nostrils flare. Oh, there we are- a crack in the lens._

_“Oh, I think you’ll ensure that one day I might be offered a glimpse of what I once was, but you won’t know at what price.” The Doctor says._

_“What do you mean by that?” Tecteun asks, but the Doctor just gives her a long look._

_“Spoilers.” She whispers._

_Tecteun gives her a long look before he breathes out a heaving sigh. “This is the part where I should wipe your memory and drop you back where you first came from.”_

_“Don’t you dare.” The Doctor spits._

_“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.” Tecteun reassures, and he moves closer then, into her personal space. She has to look up to meet his eye, and he towers over her. “You see, help is needed Doctor, specifically, your help.”_

_“Don’t use my name.” She replies._

_Tecteun laughs. “Yes, your name. We all thought your choice was rather… ironic, shall we say?”_

_“Why?” The Doctor asks._

_“Well, it’s your code name, you see. Your help for the Division really is invaluable.”_

_“My help.” The spits, and she can feel a thread begin to unravel in her mind. Her aching, spinning mind. “As if you didn’t manipulate me into following the narrative you wanted to create for the glory of Gallifrey.”_

_“Calm down, Doctor, please, this is all unnecessary.” Tecteun says, stepping forward into her space, hands raised in placation. The Doctor steps back, teeth grinding together. Something angry flares in her._

_“Oh please, don’t treat me like a child.” The Doctor scoffs._

_“But you are my child.” Tecteun says, but whilst his voice trickles like honey the aftertaste of his words is bitter, not sweet._

_“No.” The Doctor says. “I am not.”_

_Tecteun gives her a long look, and the Doctor can see anger flickering behind the placating, parental look in his eyes. “Tell me how you know?” He asks for the second time._

_“No.” She replies._

_“Fine.” Tecteun says, one eyebrow raised. He turns from her, hands grasping each other behind his back. “As I was saying, we are in quite dire need of your help. We’ve got a problem, you see, and it won’t go away.”_

_“What problem?” The Doctor asks. Her hearts are thundering in her chest, and she needs to get out of here, soon, because if she’s not careful, the cards she’s holding against her chest will slip from her fingers._

_“This… man, being, we’re not sure how to describe him. He’s causing trouble, we think to try and catch our attention. We need him questioned and dealt with.”_

_The Doctor’s lip curls, something hot burning in her stomach. “And I suppose I should have been the one to do that-”_

_“Only you’ve run off, Doctor, and really, there’s only so many times I can ground you. You know, kind a child as you were there you’ve always had this rebellious streak-”_

_“Stop it.” The Doctor says, shaking her head, but Tecteun keeps talking._

_“and you used to cause me so much trouble in the early days. Well, I suppose it really wasn’t your fault I couldn’t get the truth, the secret, out of you, but I wonder if all the experimentation it was necessary that I do ignited this rebellious spark-”_

_“Stop it.” The words come out between gritted teeth._

_“but once I’ve got you in line you really are a fantastic agent. So loyal, you’d do anything for me, at the click of my fingers.”_

_“I said stop it!” The Doctor shouts, and that thread in her mind breaks and she races forward into Tecteun’s space, taking him by the lapels of his sickeningly sumptuous coat and shaking him. “Don’t try to be clever with me. This regeneration is very good at keeping her calm, keeping her patience, but she knows when to stop with the niceties, and right now….” She pauses, a bitter laugh escaping her throat. “I can’t stand the sight of you.”_

_Tecteun is very calm, and his hands are on her arms, trying to keep them both still._

_“I am so much more than what you think you are dealing with. I have lived a lot longer than you hope you ever will. Is that what you wanted from me? The gift of immortality? Did you think that would mean ultimate power? Because I can tell you, I’m the next best thing to immortal and it is not powerful.”_

_“What is it then?” Tecteun asks, and the Doctor cannot bear the tone of voice, of a parent who is listening to their child moan about something irrelevant._

_“Lonely.” She spits. “It is loneliness without being alone. Friends and family, they go, they leave, and no matter how many friends I make and how many families I belong to they are all gone in the end and it is just me.”_

_Tecteun surveys her, eyes narrowing. “You’re in a lot of pain, Doctor.”_

_The Doctor bares her teeth. “Don’t tell me what I am or what I am not. You do not make the rules.”_

_“Alright, alright.” Tecteun concedes, but his hands do not leave her. “What do you want?”_

_“I want you to get away from me. I want you to take me back to my Tardis, and I want you to leave me alone.”_ And head towards your inevitable doom _, she thinks._

_Tecteun nods. “Very well. We’ll leave you alone. We’ll let you rest.”_

_There’s a stinging pain then, in the Doctor’s arm, and she hisses, trying to pull herself out of Tecteun’s grip. “Wh-what was that? What have you done?”_

_“It’s just a small sedative,” Tecteun explains, and he holds something in his hand, a small, silver thing. He throws it to the ground before gripping her arms tighter. Her legs give way. Her vision is starting to blur, the rich reds and golds of the room blurring into a miasma of colours. Her breathing is heavy, her heartbeats filling her ears like the sound of drums._

_“No, no.” The Doctor says, but her voice sounds muffled to her own ears._ Not good, Doctor, this is really not good- yes, thank you, Doctor, I’ve got that _._

_“It’s alright, we just want your help. And you’ll help me, won’t you, Doctor? Well, maybe not you, but…” Tecteun says, kneeling down on the floor and cradling the Doctor to him. “…we can do something about that.”_

_“No.” The Doctor says, and then consciousness bleeds away from her._

* * *

Yaz’s head tips forward and it startles her awake. She manages to catch herself before she plummets off the chair she is currently occupying, rubbing a hand over her eyes. Evening is drawing in, and the day has been, well, like waiting for the dentist. Only, the dentist is your alien friend who’s not in her right mind and has been fighting off a fever. It seems to have broken now, but the Doctor must be exhausted. Yaz certainly is.

Yaz sighs and turns to check on the Doctor. She is sleeping peacefully now, and Yaz turns away quickly, not allowing her mind to linger on how that could be her Doctor, _should_ be her Doctor, but that woman is… gone, apparently, and Yaz really needs to find out where.

She stares into Graham and Ryan’s garden from her seat by the window. Ryan is out there, pacing up and down and randomly scuffing his foot against the grass as he talks with someone on the phone. It is probably a friend. Ryan has always been good with friends. Yaz… not so much. That is why the Doctor means so much to her. The Doctor is always telling her how brilliant she is, and she never criticises her. Well, that night, in Villa Diodati, with Percy Shelley, that had been the first time the Doctor had truly snapped at them, and it had burnt a hole through Yaz in shame. Those old feelings of inferiority and guilt had stayed with her for a long while after that event, but she has had time to process it and she knows the Doctor would never have meant to hurt her, that she reacted as she did only out of stress and the weight of whatever she had been carrying. Which is why seeing her in this state is so upsetting.

Yaz sniffs, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. Her Doctor _was_ always telling her how brilliant she was. This Doctor… _this_ Doctor pointed a gun in her face.

“Why are you crying?”

Yaz jumps, turning to see the Doctor staring at her. Her eyes are wary, but they are free from the hazy fog that has occupied them for the majority of the day.

“Oh, I’m not.” Yaz says, shaking her head. She turns in her chair to face the Doctor. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” The Doctor says dismissively. “Why are you lying?”

_Damn._ The Doctor’s ability to look right through things still remains, then, as well as her obliviousness to tact.

“I’m upset.” Yaz confesses, shrugging.

The Doctor frowns. “Why?”

Yaz’s eyes narrow. “Hang on, why are you lying? Obviously, you are not ‘fine’.”

The Doctor waves her off with a lousy hand, exposing the bandage wound around her wrist. “Please, bodily wounds are meaningless. Now, why are you crying?”

“Why do you care?” Yaz asks, testing the waters. She sits up straighter, trying to switch to her police officer mentality, but it is difficult when her brain is still full of the cobwebs of the last eight months.

“Truthfully?” The Doctor asks her. Yaz nods. “I’m trying to locate your weak point. You are, essentially, my captor, and I need to get out of here.”

Yaz licks her lip, taking a fortifying breath. “I am not your captor. I am your friend. I have been trying to help you.”

The Doctor scoffs. She tries to sit upright, but the wound on her side must still be incredibly painful, and she slumps back down again. “I don’t know who you are.”

“I’m Yasmin Khan, Yaz to my friends.”

“Well, Yasmin Khan.” The Doctor says, pointedly not using her nickname. “Thanks for your help with my injuries, but I really must be going.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.” Yaz says.

“Listen,” the Doctor says, tone patronisingly arrogant. “I know what you’re trying to do here, and it isn’t going to work.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Yaz says.

“You shouldn’t know my name, that was your first mistake.” The Doctor says, pointing a finger at her. “Using me to get to the Division will not work.”

“The Division?” Yaz frowns. She has never heard that before.

The Doctor rolls her eyes. “Oh, stop. Don’t think you can win me over by treating my wounds and insisting on friendship. It will not work.”

“Doctor, I don’t know what the Division is. You are my friend, we travel together.”

The Doctor narrows her eyes. “Travel? And what do we do when we _travel?”_

“We save people. That’s what you do, you’re good at saving people. But… you died, you’re supposed to be dead.” Yaz states. She needs a way to prove this, to gain the Doctor’s trust, because no matter how much it drowns Yaz in a cold sweat, she cannot deny that the Doctor does not recognise her, and apparently thinks Yaz is trying to trick her. Words will not be enough, though, by the distrustful, disbelieving look on the Doctor’s face.

Unless…

“Look into my mind,” She says, kneeling down on the floor in front of the Doctor. “I can show you all the memories of you I have.” _All the things you never told us, all the unanswered questions._

The Doctor contemplates her for a moment, eyes heavy, face thin and pale. She looks so tired, so… alien…

She nods, and she reaches out and touches her fingers to Yaz’s forehead. Yaz closes her eyes.

She brings forth all the memories of the Doctor she has. The first memories, of a strange woman in oversized clothes and a bright smile, then the memories of all their adventures, all the amazing and brilliant things in the universe. And she shows her, most importantly, the most important aspect of all those memories, the Doctor herself, in her eccentric clothing, the traveller who does their best to help everyone they meet. She can feel the Doctor’s presence pressing on her mind, and so she shows her the memories of Gallifrey, in rubble and ruin, and the memories of the Master and his taunts. The last memory is the most painful, and she does not try to hide her grief when the memory of the Doctor bidding them goodbye for the last time swims to the surface.

Suddenly, the Doctor pulls away, and Yaz reels back, the sudden loss of the Doctor’s presence from her mind like suddenly loosing grip on a rope. She collects herself, rising back on her haunches.

The Doctor blinks once, twice, three times, and Yaz watches bemused, as a veil seems to come across her eyes, like a switch being flicked. She looks at Yaz almost pityingly, but it is not the kind pity the Doctor would sometimes show for them, but a pity fuelled by arrogance. “Those are very nice memories, Yaz. I have never seen planet Earth before, but I see now that it is beautiful.”

“What? No, Doctor, that wasn’t Earth, that was the opposite of that! You took me away from here, showed me the universe!” Yaz shakes her head.

The Doctor tilts her head to the side, “I’ve never really interacted with humans, are you usually this dense?”

Anger flares in Yaz, and she reaches for the mirror that sits on the bedside table, shoving it into the Doctor’s hands. “Look at yourself. That was you in those memories, and that wasn’t Earth you saw- that was the woman I see right now, and all she showed me!”

The Doctor holds the mirror up to her face, and she stares for a long while, but nothing in her face changes. “That wasn’t me.”

Yaz’s heart sinks. Something is seriously wrong here, and Yaz’s heart is pounding in her chest. What does she do? Is the Doctor suffering from amnesia? It is similar, but this woman is harsher and colder than the Doctor had ever seen the Doctor, although Yaz is aware there was much the Doctor hid behind her smiley façade.

“Look, I don’t know what this is, but I need to get out of here.” The Doctor says, beginning to haul herself upright.

Yaz falters, and she panics a little. The Doctor cannot leave. She puts her hand over the Doctors. “What happened to you, Doctor? Where have you been?”

The Doctor pauses, torso raised off of the bed, and looks down at Yaz’s hand on hers. She is like a dangerous animal, backed into a corner, and Yaz slowly removes her hand and returns to the seat by the window.

“I’d appreciate if you let me go now. I’m nice compared to some of my colleagues, but I will do what is necessary.” The Doctor says, managing to sit up. She swings her legs over the side of the bed, hand going to the wound on her side.

“Don’t, please, I’m only trying to help you. I believe you are my friend, that’s all I want to do. Help you.”

“Well, you can help me by letting me go.” The Doctor says, humouring her.

Yaz clenches her jaw. “I can’t let you do that, not when you’re injured.” _Not when you need more help than just with your physical injuries._

“Tell me who you’re working for, and the Division can deal with them without harming you. It’s obvious you’ve been… coerced in some way.” The Doctor says, looking around the room, presumably for her possessions. She runs a hand through her hair.

Yaz shakes her head, almost hopelessly. The Doctor is far too wrapped up in whatever fantasy she is believing. “I’m not working for anyone.”

The Doctor narrows her eyes, and she contemplates Yaz for a long while. Yaz holds her gaze, willing herself to keep her face open and trustworthy. The Doctor glances once out of the window before she looks back to Yaz, smiling faintly.

“I’m sorry for what they’ve done to you, Yaz, I really am. I’ll do my best to stop any harm coming to you once I’m back at the Division, but for now…”

If Yaz wasn’t looking so intently at the Doctor, she might have noticed the Doctor move her hand slightly, grabbing something. “…For now, I need you out of my way.”

Suddenly, she moves her hand, and Yaz flinches as something hot and bright hits her eyes. Before she can figure out what is happening, she is being shoved to the ground, and she can hear a wooden scraping sound and the kerfuffle of a body moving, short grunts of pain, and then the sounds stops. Yaz blinks, the jagged pattern of the bright light still burning on her retinas. And turns to see, barely, the window open, and the Doctor gone.

“Ryan!” She shouts, scrambling to the window ledge. Unfortunately for her, he is no longer in the garden, and the Doctor is nowhere to be seen. “Ryan!”

“Yaz, what is it?” Ryan comes barrelling into the room. “Where is the Doctor?”

“Gone.” Yaz spits, fingers curling on the window ledge as her vision slowly returns to her. “She tricked me….” She looks to the bedside table, where the mirror the Doctor had pointed in her direction sits innocently. She had known exactly when the setting sun was going to hit the room and she had used that to get away. Yaz feels sick, and she is almost certain she is going to throw up there and then, but the nausea passes in a wave and panic sets in.

“We need to find her.”

Suddenly, from downstairs, they hear a bang. Looking at each other, horrified, they race down the stairs. Yaz can barely feel her legs. She feels numb all over.

The Doctor is aiming her gun at Graham, breathing heavily, boots and jacket clutched to her chest. Graham has his hands raised, face pale, eyes sad. They are stood in the hallway, causing Yaz and Graham to stop suddenly on the stairs, Yaz almost barrelling into Ryan’s back.

“The flowerpot, really? You thought that would be the best place to hide this?” The Doctor asks Graham. She looks from him to the two other humans poised on the stairs. “Do not follow me.”

And then she points her gun and shoots.

There is a shattering sound and the hall light flickers, plunging them into a grey twilight. “No!” Yaz shouts as they all cower instinctively form the shattered glass of the hallway light which rains down on them. When it is safe to uncurl, the Doctor is gone, the front door wide open.

“Oh my days!” Ryan exclaims.

“Yaz, what happened?” Graham asks, looking up at his broken light. He gestures to the back of the house. “All of a sudden she comes careening down from the conservatory roof, grabs her gun and points it at me.”

“I showed her, I showed her my memories, but she didn’t believe me, or, rather…” Yaz pauses, strange disparate thoughts floating around in her head. So many questions, as always when it comes to the Doctor. “Like she _couldn’t_ believe me. As if something was stopping her from recognising her own face…”

“We’ve got to go after her.” Graham says.

“Yeah, get her back here, then we can properly talk to her.” Ryan says.

Yaz shakes her head. “I don’t know if it’s going to be that simple, Ryan. She seems to think we’re working for someone who’s after her because she works for something called the Division.”

“Then we’ve got go gain her trust.” Graham says.

“I’ve tried.” Yaz protests.

“I know, love, we’ll just have to keep trying, and keep showing her we want to help her until she is convinced.”

He is right, Yaz knows that, but the events that have just occurred are fresh and painful like a newly made cut.

“I think right now, the most important thing is that we get her back here so that we actually _can_ start to get her to trust us.” Ryan states, and Yaz takes a deep breath, collecting herself. He is right, they need to tackle this one step at a time. she’ll cover that fresh cut for the moment and deal with it later.

“…Where do you think she’s gone?” Graham asks.

Yaz’s mind jumps back to the previous night, to the warehouse she had found the Doctor. She had been stealing something, something mechanical, as if to make something…

“I think I know where.” She says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I re-wrote the scene between Yaz and the Doctor so many times, it just would not run smoothly!  
> They'll be some more familiar faces in the next chapter! See you then!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the positivity so far, I hope you enjoy this new chapter! I was looking through my plan and decided i could make things a little bit more exciting in the coming chapters, and so, I've decided to add a bit in, so please bear with me whilst I figure that out (I'm also having to devote most of my days to my dissertation so if updates are slower that's why :))
> 
> TW: minor violence and temporary character death (I hope I haven't just spoiled anything, but I did already say some familiar faces were turning up so...!)

Yaz taps her foot impatiently against the floor of the taxi, biting her lip. They have wasted so much time already, all owing to a stupid hitch in their plan to go after the Doctor.

None of them had a car.

Yaz’s patrol car was back at the station, and Graham and Ryan didn’t have one. Therefore, they had been forced to call for a taxi. It had been with the hope that a taxi might be quicker than the bus, but even then, the wait had been agonising, and now, making their way towards the industrial area, the journey seems to drag out for eternity.

“Never by halves with the Doc is it, Yaz?” Graham says, smiling kindly at her from his seat across from her.

She tries to conjure one back. “No.”

Silence reigns in the back of the taxi before Graham lowers his voice, glancing at the driver before speaking. “If we can’t persuade her to come back with us, what are we going to do?”

Yaz hesitates. _Come on, Officer Khan, what’s the strategy._ “I’ve got police training, I know how to restrain someone. I’m hoping she’ll tire out. She’s still injured.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Ryan asks.

Yaz swallows, “Then we’ll do what we need to do, but whatever happens, it’s for the best she’s with us.”

Graham gives her a small smile, his hand patting hers before he returns it to his lap. Neither of them has forgotten the conversation of many many months ago on board the Cybermen craft. He is as much her grandfather as he is Ryan’s, now.

The taxi comes to a stop a few minutes later, although to Yaz it feels like hours, and they hastily pay the driver before leaping from the back and into the Sheffield night.

It is dark, just as it had been the night previous, an almost complete darkness that seeps into every crevice, blending material objects together, defying the laws of physics. Yaz blinks to clear her eyesight, retinas still sensitive from the Doctor’s attack.

“Right, split up. We’ll cover more ground that way.” She tells the other two. She takes out her phone, switching on the flash to use as a torch. Ryan does the same. Graham reaches for the small pocket-torch he has kept in his jacket and flicks it on. Yaz throws her light over their surroundings, the large shape of the warehouses stark against a sky polluted by the city. The stars are barely visible.

“Text me if you find her.” She says to the other two, before heading back in the direction of the warehouse she had found the Doctor the previous night.

It is like a maze, and Yaz finds herself recounting her steps more than once. Suddenly something breaks the beam of her light, catching slightly at the edge. She turns the light to follow, but the movement is lost. Taking a steadying breath, she begins to move towards whatever was there. Knowing her luck, it will only be a cat or a fox or-

Her phone buzzes in her hand, and the screen is illuminated with a text when she turns it towards her.

It’s from Ryan

_Found her._

She presses speed dial two, and he picks up in seconds. “Yaz, can you trace your steps back to the entrance?” He asks her.

“On it.” She says, turning and walking back the way she had come. The movement completely leaves her mind.

“’Kay, once you’ve done that, take a right- no wait, no, yeah, take a left, and then we’re around the back of the second warehouse.”

Yaz, fortunately, manages to make sense of Ryan’s directions, and she is with the two men in minutes. She shuts the call off. “What happened to splitting up?” She whispers. Ryan and Graham are cautiously peering through a gap in the shutter opening of the warehouse.

“Graham got scared. He don’t like the dark.” Ryan explains, and Graham splutters a protest, but Yaz is already turning her attention to whatever they are looking at in the warehouse.

It is the Doctor, and she is working furiously to construct an odd-looking machine. She must be near completing it, as she is tinkering with something small, trying to get it twist. It is built of disparate parts of metal, and Yaz can see the instruments she had used to construct strewn around her. It reminds her of that very first night they met, when the Doctor had created her sonic screwdriver, and her stomach twists.

“Okay, here’s the plan.” She says, turning to the other two. “Sneaking up on her isn’t wise. She took the gun with her, and we don’t know what she might do. I suggest I go in there first, try and talk her out of it, if that doesn’t work, we’ll have a codeword. I’ll restrain her, you take the gun, and we’ll go from there.”

Ryan nods, but he looks apprehensive, “I don’t like this, me. It don’t feel right to be treating her like this.”

“I know Ryan, I hate it too, but we don’t have much choice right now.” Yaz insists. “And this way, we can at least _try_ to convince her we want to help her.”

“Right, well let’s get on with it.” Graham says, and Yaz can sense his nerves.

“Right.” she says, putting her phone in her pocket. _Go in there empty-handed, show her you don’t have any weapons._ “The codeword is, I don’t know, paradox!” Yaz says, the word randomly popping into her head.

Ryan and Graham nod, Ryan whispering a small ‘good luck.’ Yaz braces herself, before walking around to the side of the building, to where a small door is ajar. She knocks. 

* * *

_The Master flinches, banging his hand against the console of his Tardis in utter frustration. Raw power fizzles under his skin. The burning almost tickles, and the Master finds a giggle rising in his throat. He rears his head back, giggles turning into deep chortles as the pain courses through him, hissing at his skin._

_He gasps, stumbling forward into the console as it dies down. The pain comes and goes in waves. He wonders if it is because the Cyberium is angry at him. Well, it’s not his fault that the stupid stupid human had blown up the host planet for his new army of cyber-masters. It’s not that stupid human’s fault either. It’s the one person who seems to always be to blame…._

_Suddenly the doors to his Tardis fly open. The Master startles, pushing himself away from console, reaching for his shrinking ray. The Tardis is still in the form of the hut, as it had been in the outback. He rather prefers it that way: messy, disordered, chaotic. Bit like him, really. A figure stands at the doors, illuminated by the light outside, and as they draw nearer the Master can see exactly who it is._

_“Doctor.” He spits._

_The Doctor is pointing a gun at him, which strikes him as strange, and then it strikes him with delight, because oh, they both made it off Gallifrey, and oh, the Doctor is pointing a gun at him which hopefully means she’s finally cracked. He deposits his shrink ray in his pocket for a moment, intrigued._

_“So good of you to join me, dear! Aren’t you pleased to see me? I survived!” He puts his hands in the air as if to say, ‘ta da!’_

_“You are the one they call ‘O’, yes?” The Doctor asks him, striding into his Tardis._

_The Master frowns, raising an eyebrow. She sounds different. “If you’d like. Thought we’d gone past that point, but…” he shrugs. Something strikes him as off; he can sense it like a… vibe. Ugh. Vibe. That sounds like a word she would use._

_“My superiors have reason to believe you are trying to attract their attention.” The Doctor says, and her gun is practically touching the Master’s nose she is close._

_“Your superiors…” The Master hesitates, eyes flicking over form, over her clothes. There is one group of people he is trying to attract the attention of, at the moment, having found them detached from where they should be, irritating, like little flies buzzing around him, but the Doctor… if she had found them, she would never… unless…_

_“I might be.” He replies. “Remind me of their name again?”_

_The Doctor’s lip curls. “Why don’t you tell me?”_

_The Master smiles. “Alright then. I’m looking for the Division.”_

_The Doctor’s eyes glint in the red light of his Tardis. “Why?”_

_“Why are you working for them?” The Master asks, shifting on his feet, hands rubbing together. The Doctor watches his every move._

_“I am loyal to them. Now, answer my question.” Her gun is almost pressed against his chest. The last time they were this close, she’d had a detonator in her hand, and he had been begging her to use it._

_“Loyal?!” He says. “You…” Something crosses his mind then, a possibility, an idea that seems to place the puzzle pieces on the table. “Hold on, can I just…” He says, and he is reaching for her before she can protest, not caring about the gun pressed against his chest. He closes his eyes and delves into her mind._

_Oh, oh, this is brilliant! He think, as he is met with memories that should not be there, memories which should be lost to time, never granted to their owner, but here they are, in this body, and suddenly the Master understands what he is looking at. He pulls out of her mind with a cackling laugh, bending over as the Cyberium reacts to his exertion, stinging his skin. He doesn’t care. He likes it._

_“I can’t believe they got you, really, this is hilarious!” He laughs._

_The Doctor’s jaw clenches, and before he knows it, his arms is bent up behind his back, bones cracking, but he continues to laugh. “Stop trying to play games with me.” She spits into his ear, the hand not restraining him pressing the gun to his head._

_“Oh please, shoot away, I’ll be extremely satisfied.” He giggles manically._

_“How did you just do that?” She says. “What did you just do?”_

_“Oh, I think you know what that was. Now, aren’t you interested in how I could do it?”_

_She scorns. “You’re a renegade, that’s all that matters. From Gallifrey or not, I’m here to ensure you don’t cause any trouble.”_

_“They must be keeping the real you somewhere….” He mutters under his breath, a new idea beginning to grow in his brains. Maybe being shot and possibly killed by the Doctor now wouldn’t be the best idea… “Look, I promise I don’t mean any harm, I simply want to talk with the Division.” His eyes flick to his console, and idea growing in his mind. “Let’s be reasonable about this.”_

_“I’m not here to be reasonable, I’m here to eliminate a threat.” The Doctor states._

_“Oh, look at what you are, this is what I was trying to show you… it’s been in you this whole time…” The Master says, laughing harshly. He is cut off when she shoves him against the console._

_“I don’t know what trick you’re trying to pull, but it’s not going to work.” She spits in his ear. “And it is hardly convincing me that you’re going to be reasonable, so I’m afraid I’m just going to have to stop you.”_

_The Master is sure by ‘stop’ she means ‘kill’ and so, before she can realise what he is doing, his hand creeps up and flicks a switch on the console. Suddenly, the room is flooded with strobing lights and the Master forcefully swings his elbow into her torso._

_She fights back well, the Master had not expected any less, but the moment the gun is out of her grip he manages to overpower her, and with a cleverly placed elbow to the temple she is unconscious on the floor._

_“Sorry, old friend.” He says, switching off he light show. He allows himself a moment just to look at the Doctor, lying there. How far they have come, how far they have both fallen. Breathing heavily, the Cyberium sparking and electric inside him, the Master runs a hand through his hair, pocketing her gun in his jacket._

_He looks over at her, mind suggesting multiple strategies to him. Wouldn’t it be fun to just drop her somewhere and see how she fares? If she’s not dead by the time he gets her true self back to her then surely, she is deserving of her own return?_

_“This fairness things is easy, someone make me a lawyer!” He says to absolutely no one._

_Flicking some switches on the controls, he giggles over a thought. Bounty hunters… they’re always fun, aren’t they? Immoral to a fault, comically uncaring about who and what they’re trading with. Well, a Timelord, that would be a very nice cargo, wouldn’t it? Only for while, the Master will be back for her._

_“Nothing personal, dear,” He says to the unconscious Doctor as he put his Tardis into drive, “Just an insurance policy whilst I go and find what the nasty little Division did with you.”_

_As the Master’s Tardis materialises into the loading bay of the Silas bounty hunter’s main operating ship, he cannot help but feel just a tiny bit disappointed that this was not his Doctor, having finally snapped after all they’ve been through. But he reasons to himself, maybe after all this then she really will, then, then you’ll have finally won._

* * *

The tinkering sounds from inside stop, and Yaz uses that moment to call out. “It’s me. It’s Yaz. I’m not here to stop you.”

She waits, heart beating furiously in her chest, for the Doctor to reply. Finally, she does. “How did you find me?”

Yaz carefully opens the door and slips inside, leaving it open behind her. The Doctor is stood facing her, gun in hand, and she raises it to aim at Yaz. Yaz puts her hands up in the air.

“You were here last night; it wasn’t that hard.” Yaz explains, smiling slightly. “Look, I promise, I’m not here to stop you. I’m not your captor, I’m not working for anyone.”

The Doctor narrows her eyes at her. “You might be. You might not even know you’re working for someone; they might have manipulated you without your knowing it. You’re only human, after all.”

“Sorry, but I am very confused here!” Yaz says, stepping forward a few steps. The Doctor doesn’t stop her, but the gun is still in one hand whilst she flicks the switches on her machine with the other. “Who is it you think is using me to get to you?”

“Silas, the bounty hunters!” The Doctor replies. She glances to Yaz, pausing as she sees the genuine confusion there. “They place informants all over the universe, looking for potential commodities and run-aways, like me…”

“Hang on, you were captured by _bounty hunters?!”_ Yaz asks, stomach dropping. Something cold crawls up her spine. Did _they_ do this to the Doctor?

“Not by choice. And I’m normally more careful than that,” The Doctor defends herself. She sighs and stops fiddling to look at Yaz properly. “Would have thought you’d have known that, being an informant. Thought you were after me for them, trying to confuse me with those memories…”

“Search my brain for any manipulation. Go on.” Yaz says, stepping even closer. “Those memories you saw, they weren’t a result of anything like that, and I think you can tell, only something is stopping you from seeing it all in straight line. Something is confusing you, but it’s not me!”

The Doctor hesitates, face blank but eyes heavy-set. Eventually, she steps closer towards Yaz, and Yaz can notice she is still incredibly pale. The wounds must be taking their toll, considering she has just constructed a machine of some sort. She spares Yaz a glance before raising her hand to Yaz’s forehead, closing her eyes.

Yaz flinches, but the Doctor’s grip remains strong. It feels as if a rake is being dragged through her mind, and she loses all sense of the ground beneath her feet, her body going numb all over. He breath falters, and she worries she might suffocate, but the Doctor is pulling away, and the air rushes back into her lungs, leaving Yaz stumbling away slightly.

The Doctor is staring long and hard at her, frowning. “You’re not working for anyone. Those memories… I can’t see them, I don’t understand them, but they’re unmistakably yours. You know nothing, nothing of the Division…”

“See, I wasn’t lying.” Yaz gasps. “I wouldn’t lie.”

“Then who are you?” The Doctor asks.

“A friend. I promise you. A friend.” Yaz says, and the Doctor’s jaw clenches and unclenches before she turns back to her machine, stowing her gun in the inside pocket of her leather jacket.

“Fine. If you’re a ‘friend’, don’t stop me from doing this.” The Doctor says, returning to her machine.

The Doctor’s trust is fragile, lying, instead of on solid ground, then as a compelling mystery to her mind. Yaz must be conundrum to her, someone who knows her, but not the _her_ she is at the present moment. But she does not think Yaz is working against her and she is not pointing a gun at her, so that’s progress, Yaz supposes.

“What are you doing?” Yaz asks.

“Sending a message to the Division. Getting out of here.” The Doctor explains.

Yaz’s heart lurches. _No, the Doctor can’t leave._

“What is the Division, exactly?” Yaz asks. _And why are you so desperate to get back to them._

“Interesting, maybe you’re some sort of anomaly in time…” The Doctor ponders to herself as she flicks a switch and the centre of the machine lights up with a blue neon light. It fizzes with power, catching at the ends of her blonde hair. “Maybe you’re just in my head… no, that can’t be it…”

“Doctor, _what_ is the Division?” Yaz pesters. She is aware of Ryan and Graham, hidden outside watching them, and she hopes they can trust in what she is trying to achieve.

“Can’t tell you that, Yaz, that’s confidential.” She smirks. “Very confidential. All I can tell you is that they need me back, and I need to get back to them.”

“Why? Why do you need to get back?” Yaz asks.

“I was in the middle of something, something very important.” The Doctor replies. 

Yaz bites her lip, unsure whether she should let the Doctor go ahead with her plan, or whether she should stop her. This Division, it sounds… official, ominous. Ominously official. And something deep within Yaz knows they can only mean bad news. That the Doctor seems to be working for them, that they have her using weapons and an apparently bad case of amnesia… she is not herself and if the Division is responsible for that…. Yaz’s hands curl into fists.

She is about to call out their codeword, deciding that stopping the Doctor before they had more answers might be the way ahead, when suddenly there is the sound of a kerfuffle behind her, and both her and the Doctor turn as three figures barrel into the room.

Yaz stares in complete surprise as Ryan and Graham come running behind none other than Captain Jack Harkness.

“Yaz, sorry, we tried to stop him!” Ryan pants out, hands on his knees.

“Jack! What-” Yaz starts, but Jack cuts her off.

“Hey there, gorgeous, think you could do with my help!” Jack says to her with a cheeky wink and a grin. He is dressed as he was last time they met, in that strangely old-looking trench coat.

“Actually, I’ve been doing fine on my own.” Yaz says, annoyed. Jack’s sudden and unexplained presence could destabilise all the progress she has made.

“Who is this?” The Doctor asks, face stone cold. Her gun is in her hand and is pointing directly at Jack. The man raises his hands above his face, but he still has a smile on his face.

“Well, well, well, this is not quite what I was expecting, but can I just say I’m really digging the leather jacket.” Jack remarks, looking the Doctor up and down, even as he raises his hands against the gun pointed at him.

“I don’t know who you are.” The Doctor says, her gun still trained on Jack.

“’Course you do, it’s me, Doctor.” Jack says, grin still plastered on his face but confusion playing around his eyes. “I know its been years and years, but I’d like to think I’m pretty memorable.”

“Jack….” Yaz starts to warn him, stuck between him and the Doctor, but the Doctor cuts her off.

“Did Silas send you?” She asks.

“No, but I was captured by him, too. I heard talk that a woman with two heartbeats had managed to escape onto Earth and I knew it had to be you. So, I followed you here.”

“Why would you do that? What do you want?” She demands.

“Well for one I wanted out there, too, are you kidding me? Once they found out my particular party trick I would have been a good sale.” Jack says, eyebrows raised. “And… I wanted to see you, I’ve been looking for ages.”

“Jack, I need to explain something to you.” Yaz says urgently, as the Doctor huffs in frustration.

“She’s not herself, son.” Graham mutters from behind Jack.

“What does that mean?” Jack says, and then suddenly has to jump out the way as the Doctor fires her gun at his feet and shoots. A laser beam bursts out and the ground where Jack’s foot had just been smokes lazily.

“Ah, I see what that means.” Jack says, and he has lost all his cheeky perkiness

“I suggest you all shut up now or I will use this again, and this time I’ll aim elsewhere.” She warns, and her face catches at the shadows of the room, looking pale and dangerous. It makes Yaz feel sick.

“Okay, I’m missing something here, but if there’s one thing I know, it’s that the Doctor with a gun is a Doctor not thinking straight.” Jack says, and he warily takes a step forward so that Yaz is behind him. “Doctor, what’s going on? What’s happened?”

“You’re too late.” She says, and her hand is reaching for the machine. “If you’re trying to stop me reaching the Division, then it’s too late.”

Jack pales significantly. “The Division? Doctor, no, why are you-”

He moves forward, and that is his fatal mistake.

Yaz watches in horror as the Doctor shoot Jack in the chest and the man crumples to the floor. Then, before any of them can stop her, she pulls a lever on the machine, and a burst of raw energy flies from it, shooting up into the sky, breaking a hole in the roof. The energy does not stop there, however, and it travels through the metal of the device and shocks the Doctor with an intensity which sends her sprawling to the floor.

“Oh my days!” Ryan exclaims, hands out in front of him, panicked, not knowing where to turn.

“Look after Jack!” Yaz orders the other two as she races to the Doctor’s side. She’s on her side, and Yaz is relieved that when she searches for the double-pulse, she finds both hearts are beating just as they should be. She seems to be unconscious, knocked out by the blast of energy, no doubt. The gun lays discarded by her side, and for the second time, she stows it in her pocket, hopefully keeping it out of the Doctor’s reach for good this time. Yaz bites her lip as she checks on her wounds; her neck is fine, almost healed, but the wound is seeping blood still. Yaz sighs, allowing her head to hang for just a moment.

What a mess.

“Yaz, I don’t think he’s alive, love.” Graham says grimly, and Yaz, trusting the Doctor will, hopefully, be alright for a moment, turns to face the others.

She can see Graham is right the moment she looks at Jack. His chest isn’t moving and he’s deathly pale, literally.

“What do we do?” Ryan says hand on his head. “How the hell we gonna explain this to anybody?”

Yaz’s thoughts are racing, catastrophising over scenarios where she has to call her superiors, an investigation is launched, and she loses her job- or worse. Her heart is starting to palpitate, and she runs a shaking hand through her hair when suddenly-

Jack gasps, and all three of them rear back with cries of shock. He looks shocked, a little confused, but otherwise- fine.

“What the hell?!” Ryan exclaims.

“Well… How did you do _that?”_ Graham splutters.

“Call it a gift, call it a curse, but whatever it is, I’m practically immortal.” Jack explains. The three of them share the same bewildered look. _Immortal._ “Is she okay?” Jack asks, looking over at the unconscious Doctor as the other three help him to his feet.

“I think so, just managed to shock herself as she sent the message.” Yaz says, kneeling down by the Doctor’s side, checking her double-pulse, which is still steady.

“Did she catalyse the transponder?” Jack asks, shaking his head grimly when Yaz nods her affirmation. “Look, I need you kids to explain to me what the hell is going on here, but first we gotta get somewhere else. If she’s sent that message and the Division have picked it up, they’ll be coming after us, and that’s not good. _Really_ not good.”

“What _is_ the Division?” Yaz cannot help but ask. She is thankful Jack knows, now they finally might get a clear answer.

“I promise you, Yaz, I’ll answer all the questions you have, but we need to move.” Jack says, and he is already bending to lift the Doctor into his arms. “Oh, she is gonna hate me for this.” He mutters.

“Come on, let’s get back to our place.” Graham says.

“Shouldn’t we do something about that thing?” Ryan asks, pointing at the Doctor’s machine.

“Ah, good point.” Jack says, adjusting the Doctor in his arms. Yaz has to look away as her head flops lifelessly against his arm. “Yaz, you got that gun?”

“Yeah.” Yaz says.

“Blow it to pieces.” Jack states smile on his face but eyes glinting.

“My pleasure.” Yaz says, taking the gun out of her pocket. She puts all her anger and worry and frustration into the acts as she aims and fires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, I'll see you at the next update!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a crisis of confidence over this chapter, but have finally managed to find time to rework it and i think it's okay.... Anyway, please enjoy, and thank you for all the positivity so far!
> 
> TW: none applicable

“So, bounty hunters. Wanna explain?” Ryan asks Jack as they all settle into Graham’s front room. The journey back to Graham’s house had been tense, to say the least, yet alone awkward as they had to make an excuse to the taxi driver who picked them up as to why one of their party was unconscious. ‘ _One hell of a party’,_ Jack had explained. The taxi driver had shrugged, but his eyes had watched them suspiciously in the wing mirror as he delivered back to Graham’s cosy suburban street.

“I swear, one wrong party and it all goes wrong.” Jack laments, shaking his head. He accepts a cup of tea from Graham as he enters the room with a tray full of mugs. Yaz accepts hers too, but almost spills it in her crouched position by the couch. They all decided it might be best to keep the Doctor in the main room, where all of them will remain, or at least, there will be more than one person in the room at any one time, instead of the small box room. She is still unconscious from the shock from her machine. Yaz worries about this, although her double-pulse is normal. Possibly it is the fall out of her injuries, still slowing her healing process, although Yaz checked the wounds and they seemed to be healing cleanly. _Who knows, at this point,_ she thinks to herself as she sips her tea.

“I was with those bounty hunters for about a week. I would’ve escaped sooner, but I was trying to keep my little party trick you saw earlier a secret.” Jack says, taking a sip of his tea.

“ _How_ can you do that?” Ryan asks, bewildered, siting at the table. Jack joins him with a quick wink.

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell ‘ya after we’ve got all of this sorted out over a drink, what do ya’ think?” He smoulders.

“Errr…” Ryan says, looking to Yaz in panic. She simply laughs at him.

“But that’s later, for now…” Jack says, leaning back in his chair. “Care to explain what the hell is going on?”

And so, they do, all three of them chiming in when they can offer information. Yaz speaks the most, as she had been the one to find the Doctor and had faced that tense conversation hours earlier. Jack stops her when she discusses the Doctor’s apparent inability to see the memories of herself. It feels reassuring to have someone who apparently knows the Doctor quite well confirm the suspicions over what they have seen and how the Doctor is acting. She just hopes Jack can find an answer to what has happened to her, and that they can then finally try and figure out how to fix it.

He sits in a silence which does not suit him for a long while after they have brought him up to speed. His eyes are faraway, trained on the Doctor.

“I think we can all agree that is not the Doctor we all know. Well, I knew a slightly different Doctor to yours, well two, actually, but its not regenerative change I’m talking about here… it’s someone else entirely.”

“Who is it, then?” Ryan asks. “And why are they in the Doctor’s body?”

“When I said that wasn’t the Doctor… it is. But it isn’t’. Not if this is what I think it might be.” Jacks says.

“Eh?” Graham says. “She’s not herself, but she is, but she isn’t… how’d you figure that?”

“I think someone has used a chameleon arch on her.” He states.

They all three stare, confused.

“A what?” Ryan asks, crossing his arms.

“It’s a piece of technology, used by the Timelords- you know what species she is, yes?” He asks, pausing in the middle of his explanation.

“Yeah, just about. Didn’t get that out of her easy though.” Graham says with a small chuckle, shaking his head slightly.

“The Timelords, they have this technology. It can change a Timelord’s biology, essentially change their species. It’s used normally if they need to hide. I know the Doctor has used it before, to make themselves human. The thing with the chameleon arch is that it means the Timelord is not themselves anymore. They’re a completely different person. The Timelord gets stored in an object, and when the time is right, they are returned to themselves. Except….”

“The Doctor hasn’t changed species, she’s still got two pulses.” Yaz finishes for him, and Jack nods grimly. It makes sense, what he is saying, and it soothes Yaz to know this colder woman might not be her Doctor at all, but that little hitch in the explanation is like her breath has got caught in her throat.

“It does possibly explain why she doesn’t recognise you and couldn’t see your memories of her, Yaz. Things that would have been important to them before just slide past their notice…”

“Could there be a way that a Timelord can change themselves without changing their biology?” Ryan suggests.

Jack shrugs. “Possibly. I certainly don’t know everything. But… this isn’t amnesia. It’s the only thing that springs to my mind, and trust me, I’ve seen a _lot_ of things.”

“Any way we can be sure?” Graham asks.

“Maybe I can help with that?” Another voice says, and Yaz feels as if she had been drenched in a bucket of ice-cold water.

All four of them turn to the voice that greets them from the corner of the room. A figure flickers for a moment before stabilising, a static blue energy coming from it. A hologram, it looks like. But that is not what surprises Yaz, that is not what sends her heart racing. It is the figure himself, who stands there with a wicked grin on his face.

The Master. 

* * *

_The Master cackles as he runs back into his Tardis, quickly darting to the controls and sending himself into the time vortex. There, safe for now, until he wants to run into them again. Or, until they can get a purchase on his location. He’ll see which one happens first. Either way, he will have won, because he has what they should have kept safer._

_He reverently holds the fob watch in his hand, feeling its warmth in his palm. It feels like her, as if she is in the room with him, but she is sleeping, lying dormant until someone wakes her._

_His oldest friend…._

_“Oh, they’re going to be so cross with me, dear.” He murmurs to her, rubbing his thumb across the casing. “So cross they won’t know what they’re running into….” He smirks to himself, and very carefully places the fob watch in the inside pocket of his jacket. “Now, you behave in there whilst we get where we need to, and then…Then you’ll realise that Gallifrey was only the beginning. That was only a game…”_

_A shrill sound interrupts the Master in his actions, and his ears practically prick up. That is a transmission signal. A very specific transmission signal. And he seems to have intercepted it._

_He crosses to the other side of the console, reading what the screen reports to him. His hearts leap in his chest. “Well, well, well, what have you been up to?” He murmurs._

_The Cyberium sizzles under his skin, a new plan springing to mind as he takes in the location of the transmission. Yes, yes, that would be_ brilliant! _Oh, how she would_ hate _that!_ “ _You can’t help yourself, can you? Even when you’re not yourself.” He says to the fob watch._

_He homes in on the location, and he can feel the pull of her like a magnet. So can the fob watch in his pocket, and he secures the location he needs. “Now, what would be the most dramatic way of doing this?” He thinks, tapping a finger against his lips. “Aha!” He cries, finger shooting up into the air. “Holograph, classic!”_

* * *

“You’re supposed to be dead!” Ryan says, pointing a finger at the figure of the Master.

“Oh, I might have known it would be you lot,” The Master tuts, flicking his fringe back with a hand. “She has such a _thing_ for humans…”

“How are you alive?” Yaz says, shaking her head. Her mouth has gone completely dry.

“Handy little thing, pocket teleport.” The Master explains. “Got myself away before Gallifrey blew!”

“Was this you?” Yaz asks the Master, coming to stand in front of him, instinctively shielding the Doctor. She points at her. “Did you do this to her?”

“Me?” The Master asks, eyebrows raised. “Oh, I wish! Ingenious little plan! But, no, no, I didn’t. although, you could say I’m now meddling with that plan, because it’s fun, and it makes what I had planned so much better! Oh, sometimes you just have to let the children play and it will still go your way.” He looks between them, and then his eyes fix on Jack, lighting up. “Oh! Hello Jack! Long time no see! Still immortal, then?”

“Master.” Jack says through gritted teeth. The Master bows his head as if accepting applause.

“The one and only.”

“Is this what I think it is? Is this the work of a chameleon arch?” Jack asks.

“Oh, spot on! Ten points for the soldier!” The Master says, clapping his hands. 

“Was this the Division?” Jack asks, and Yaz can see genuine surprise in the Master’s eyes.

“Oh, solider, how do _you_ know about the Division?” He asks.

“I don’t know much, but… you spend enough time in some dodgy bars then whispers start to seep in. No one really knows what it is, only that it is dangerous.” Jack says.

“Oh, it is at that, but dangerous does not mean infallible.” The Master’s eyes glint. “All that remains are the last dregs, those agents strewn across the universe, those who managed to avoid what I did on Gallifrey.”

“You did that to Gallifrey.” Yaz says, more a statement than a question. The events surrounding Gallifrey, it had all made sense that the Master was the one pulling all of the strings, joining forces with the cybermen to create his own race, according to the Doctor. Why was he here now, then, and what had happened to that race? Had they all been destroyed on Gallifrey?

The Master does a small mock bow. “That was my hand, yes.”

“Why?” Graham asks. “Why all that death?”

“Lies, so many lies…” The Master shakes his head. “How much did the Doctor tell you about herself? Did she ever tell you how many lives she’s had?”

The three of them look at each other, all slightly shaking their heads. The Master laughs.

“You have no idea, do you? All you’ve seen is the ridiculous trousers and braces and a smile so trustful she swept you away, and you _didn’t_ think to ask her about her past.”

“We didn’t want to cross a line, not until you showed up and interfered. Then, well, we sort of needed answers, after all that had happened.” Graham says, jumping to their friend’s defence.

The Master pouts. “Oh, how noble of you all, allowing her to recreate herself like that. Well, I couldn’t let that continue. Believe me, it’s for your own good.”

“Mate, look, if you’ve got answers to all this just tell us!” Ryan finally snaps, hands gesticulating.

The Master’s eyes narrow, head bobbing backwards. “Why would I do that? I’m not making this easy for you, but I would like to help you. You don’t have to help her.”

“Yes, we do.” Yaz insists, voice cold. She’s furious, and yet the fury does not come from indignation. It comes from a sense of hope tinged with wariness. The Master is not to be trusted, and yet the Doctor had called him an old friend. The two seem intertwined, with a history unlike any other. Who else would know of her past, and of Gallifrey, then him? 

“Oh, Yaz, are you sure?” The Master leans towards her, eyebrow cocked. “Do you know what you’re looking at there?”

Yaz holds his gaze, refusing to answer. The Master continues, smirking. “You’re looking at a younger version of the Doctor. So furious, so ready for a fight, so…. Delusional.”

Yaz tries not to let her surprise show, as the Master’s gaze is still on her, but her stomach flips, her hands jolting.

“The Division is a top secret, transuniversal department that meddles with events to ensure the Timelords remain on top, in control of everything. Well, it _was._ And you’re looking at their best agent.”

“I’ve known younger Doctors, and there’s one thing the Doctor always stands by. She never uses guns.” Jack says, confusing marring his brow, too. All of them are taken aback.

The Master rolls his eyes. “You do not know everything about the Doctor, _do you_? She’s always been destructive, but there was a time that destruction was bit less clever, a bit less cruel, like it is now.”

“She’s not destructive.” Graham says, frowning.

The Master looks at him, long and hard. “Isn’t she?”

There is silence for a moment, all of them trying to digest what they cannot quite understand, but they have all glimpsed, like a shadow in the corner of the eye. There’s a truth in the Master’s words that they cannot quite see, or rather, do not want to, keeping their eyeline forward. 

“So, if this is a younger version of the Doctor, how did she get into _this_ body?” Jack asks.

The Master straightens up, sniffing. “She was always special. The Division needed her because she was the best. They kept each version of her uploaded to the matrix, ready to pluck out and stick into a new body if they needed to. Now, I suppose the Doctor was looking for a little,” he looks for a word, hands making a seeping movement. “bit of reassurance, after Gallifrey. Oh don’t look like that, what did I just say? You do not know the Doctor, why would she come looking for you after all she saw on Gallifrey?” The Master says, spotting the three humans’ downturned faces. Yaz swallows the lump in her throat. The thought that the Doctor had run off without the hindsight to tell them she was not dead…she steels herself, reminding herself not to believe every word, every manipulation this man is shaping. _If she had, it was for good reason,_ Yaz reassures herself, _she cares about us, she sacrificed herself for us._

“How could they do that?” Jack asks.

The Master answers only enigmatically. “Lies. Lots and lots of lies.” He straightens up, something sad and old dropping out of his eyes to be replaced with something much colder. “Look, as much as I love a good ear wag, I do have things to be getting on with, an ultimatum to pose to you.” 

“What ultimatum?” Yaz asks.

“I managed to make it off Gallifrey with the one thing I need to still complete my plan.” The Master explains. He brings a finger to his head, pointing at his temple. “The Cyberium. It’s still inside me. Most of my soldiers were destroyed when Gallifrey went ‘boom’ but one survived, and that’s all I need as a template. At first, I was incredibly angry, when I realised a small part of Gallifrey had managed to escape my bloodshed, but now, now I realise what a marvellous opportunity it is for me to rebuild my race! And I’ve got something that will make them come running. And something that might possibly rethink whether you’re going to stop me- I can already see the rebellion in your eyes, Jack!”

He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a fob watch. Jack lets out a gasp, followed by a muttered swear word. Yaz is confused for a moment, but then it clicks. Jack had said that a Timelord is stored in an object when the chameleon arch is used, and here is the Master, giggling over this fob watch like a child who has just won first prize at the funfair. It is engraved with the runic language which is carved all over the Tardis. The Doctor’s native language, Yaz knows. _He could be bluffing, he could be bluffing,_ she tells herself, only that…

There is an energy to the fob watch, to which Yaz feels drawn, despite it only being in hologram form. Or rather, its strength is apparent seeing as she is drawn to it _despite_ it being in holographic form. It feels warm and familiar… she knows it is the Doctor.

The Master smiles. “Oh, you should see your faces!”

“Give her back!” Ryan demands a little helplessly, and Yaz can see his chest moving up and down swiftly in distress.

The Master makes a face. “Well, obviously I’m not going to do that. Not without good reason. And oh, I think my reason is _pretty good._ ”

“Just tell us!” Jack demands, loosing his patience. The Master throws his hands up, looking affronted.

“I’d found this dead planet, once I’d reunited with my Tardis, and decided that might be a worthy substitute for the Gallifrey that no longer exists. I’ve been hanging around the Division for ages, pestering them, trying to provoke them to come looking for me. Once I lured them to me, I could overpower them, convert them, and hey presto- the cyber-masters reborn! But then the Doctor turns up and tries to kill me, doing their dirty work, you see, so obviously I have to repay the favour. Dropped her off with some bounty hunters and went looking for her real self, here.” He throws the fob watch up in the air and catches it. “I thought this would be the most excellent bait to get them right where I wanted them. But then,” He mock-gasps, a hand covering his mouth. “I intercept a signal, sent from sleeping beauty over there, from her precious Earth, and my plan gets _even_ better, can you imagine? Which brings me to my ultimatum.”

_Finally,_ Yaz cannot help thinking. All this talk and anticipation and she can feel the sweat on her forehead.

“I will give you your Doctor back, even throw in the fob watch for you to keep afterwards, _if_ you let me use Earth as the founding planet! The Division will follow me here, and once they’re converted, they can help with the process! All those humans converted into disposable cattle. Throw you into fights and I won’t’ have to waste my precious magnum opuses.” He sighs, brow creasing. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

“You’re insane.” Jack spits.

The Master shrugs. “Yes, and?”

“You really think you’ll allow us to invade the Earth and convert us all into Cybermen?” Yaz says, shaking her head. This is bad, this is really, _really_ bad.

“Well if you don’t, you’re not going to get your Doctor back, are you?” The Master says. He looks to the unconscious Doctor-not-Doctor on the sofa, head tilting to the side. “You’ll be left with that delusional thing, trained to be a fighter and a killer. All the things your Doctor tries her best not to be. She’ll be the last thing you see before you die.”

A heavy silence hangs in the air as the humans watch him slip the fob watch back into his jacket pocket.

“I will give you one day to decide. Then, well, you’ll see me coming. Me and the Division I should think. Oh, and don’t try and get them on your side, that _really_ won’t work. Well, see ya!”

And with an electric flash the hologram fizzles out and the Master is gone.

Yaz forgets to breath for a moment, and it seems like all of them are suspended in time as they look at each other with horror.

“Now what do we do?” She asks. 

* * *

“There’s got to be another way,” Ryan says, pacing the room a few moments are the Master’s dramatic departure. His hands are clasped behind his neck, head titled back towards the ceiling. “We can’t let him do that.”

“But we also need the Doctor back.” Yaz says. She will not entertain the thought that they will not save the Doctor, and yet _of course_ they cannot let the Master go ahead with his plan. She feels indignant, angry, at the Master, at the secrets and lies he had alluded to, at the entire situation…

“Isn’t there anyone we can warn? The government?” Graham says.

“No, no Torchwood, no UNIT, can’t think Mi6 will acknowledge us.” Jack says, with a weary tone. “Only the Master would be mad enough for this.”

“Well, obviously we can’t let him bring the cybermen here!” Graham says.

“But if we don’t then we might lose the Doctor.” Yaz weighs up the other side of the argument for him.

“I know, Yaz. Really, I understand where you’re coming from, but she wouldn’t want that. For us to sacrifice Earth on her behalf. You know she wouldn’t.” Graham says kindly.

“No, I know.” She sighs. She runs a hand through her hair, pulling at her scalp a little. _Think, think, think!_ The Doctor can always think herself out of a situation (well, nearly almost; Gallifrey burns at the back of her mind), but she is not Yaz’s Doctor, still unconscious on the couch, and so Yaz will have to take up the mantle. They all will. They will think their way out of this.

“Hang on…” She says, an idea beginning to form in her brain. “The Doctor, before, she was contacting the Division, only the Master interrupted that signal. Well, what if we can convince her to contact them again, see if she can make something a bit more advanced, if we can help her out, then maybe we could talk with them?”

“The Master said there’d be no point.” Graham says.

“What would we even say?” Ryan asks her.

“We’d convince them to help us get our Doctor back. She is the only one who can stop him! We can’t. Look what he did to Gallifrey, apparently not even a whole civilisation could save themselves from him, and that’s before he had those hybrid-cybermen of his!”

“That sounds bad, really, really bad.” Jack murmurs. “How did he get hold of the Cyberium?”

“It’s a long story.” Graham says. “For another time. Right now, we gotta help the Doc.”

The room falls silent, the Master’s apparent truths sitting heavy between them all like a ghost. Or rather, the ghost is laid out on the couch. A part of the Doctor she hadn’t wanted them to see, apparently. _For good reason,_ Yaz thinks, but then berates herself, feeling sick. It is not fair on her Doctor to judge what she did and did not tell them without her explaining for herself, and that will not happen unless they fight for her. So, they will fight for her.

“Look, if we can talk to this Division, warn them of the danger we are all in, we’ve a better chance of getting the Doctor back and beating the Master, right?” She says shrugging.

“We’ve got a common goal in mind.” Graham reasons. “Not getting converted into cybermen, right?”

“Right, and if we can demonstrate to them how clever our Doctor is, they won’t be interested in changing her into an older version of herself.” Yaz says. “We can get her back.” _Somehow, if we can get the fob watch off the Master._ She lets out a long breath, telling herself not to get overwhelmed. They can think this through, one thing at a time.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s try it.” Ryan nods, sending her an impressed grin. She smiles back.

Jack claps his hands together. “Alright. So,” He looks to the unconscious Doctor. “We gotta convince her.”

“Not if we just tell her we want to help her.” Ryan says shrugging. “Say you understand how dangerous the Division is, Jack, and that we can’t think we could hope to outmanoeuvre them, so we’ll help her instead.”

“Damn, not just a handsome face.” Jack says, nodding appreciatively at Ryan, who blushes.

The notion they would be lying sits heavy in Yaz for a moment, until she remembers that this is not the Doctor she knows, that this is the lie that she was apparently not meant to know about. Confronting a lie with a lie does not seem too bad, it might even things out, and at the end of the day, it will hopefully get them what they want.

The Doctor. _Her_ Doctor. 

* * *

_The Doctor is trapped, the healing coma holds her battered body in duress. This is tedious. She hates resting. She likes action. She wants action. She wants to get home, she wants to see Tecteun, she wants… something that feels like love, although she is unsure what that is. Approval. Yes, Tecteun’s approval is her love, of that the Doctor is sure._

_Disparate voices float into her consciousness every now and again, enough for her to know they are talking about her. Oh. The humans. They have unsettled her more than she would ever admit, has been trained to admit. Their talk of knowing her, of knowing her name but putting it to a different person altogether, is frankly quite disturbing, and irritating. It has shaken the ground beneath her feet, leaving her feeling more unguarded than usual, and so she has put her walls up completely. She enjoys that she can normally hide behind the secretive and enigmatic name of the Division, it allows her, to some extent, to not feel responsible for her actions, but the humans… they seem to look through her, to see something better._

_She does not like it._

_They are talking to someone, and she picks up the main points. It reminds her of the many training sessions she has been forced to sit through. So much information, so little attention span. She wants action. She wants to keep moving. She wants to run._

_Tecteun berates her for always wanting to run. She cannot explain it, but she has always felt the need to get away. But to what? The Division is all she has; all she’ll ever have._

_She_ is _the Division._

_The Cyberium, that sounds interesting. Very interesting. Something the Division would be incredibly interested in. Yes, that’s it, focus on what you can do, what you know how to do; further the cause of the Division, be loyal to them. That puts her back on solid ground._

_The humans are at it again, speaking of this ‘other’ Doctor. If she wasn’t stuck in a comatose state, she’d harshly berate them for making her feel so… what is that? Scared? She is always scared, if she stops and thinks about it. Another reason why she prefers to keep running. No, she is more than scared, she is also furious. They want her back- who_ is _this person they keep talking of?! Why won’t they leave her in peace?!_

_Oh, they want to use the Division to get their ends, and they want to use her in order to accomplish that. Well, she’ll lead them on if she must, if they must remain so dangerously disarming. Get back in contact with the Division again, get home, please Tecteun. Get away from these humans and who they seem to think she is. They have no right to ownership over her. Sometimes Tecteun does the same, speaks as if there was another her before herself, and it makes her feel dizzy, every time. But Tecteun is right, she is always right, and the Doctor owes her life to her, apparently. She does not remember. If she tries to remember, it hurts, so she prefers not to. She keeps looking forward. Keeps running. Keeps loyal._

_New approach. Work with the humans, let them think she’s giving them what they want, and then run, run back to Tecteun, offer them something new, this Cyberium, as a penance for her accidently sojourn. And then, back to her life on Gallifrey, back to the Division._

_She just has to keep running._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Master is that bitch. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! See you at the next one!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the longer wait, I had a little writer's block with this chapter. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and thank you for all the support!
> 
> TW: non applicable

“Why?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you suddenly helping me?” The Doctor asks, tone defensive, body hunched in on itself where she is sat on the sofa.

“Well, Jack ‘ere told us all he knows about the Division and we reckon that, yeah, we don’t want to get involved in all that, so we’ll help you return-” Graham says, explaining.

“With the hope that they won’t kill us after.” Ryan interjects, holding a hand out. The Doctor scoffs.

“They wouldn’t kill you.” She mutters. “Wipe your memory, yes, but kill….” She runs her tongue over her teeth.

“Here,” Yaz says, re-entering the room with a mug of tea in hand. She holds it out to the Doctor. The other woman looks at it like it might be poisoned.

“What is that?”

“Tea.” Yaz explains. “It’s an Earth drink. Very… restorative.”

After a moment’s indecision the Doctor takes it, and after a cursory sniff takes a sip. She must like it, as she takes another soon after, and Yaz smiles.

“Is my machine still intact?” The Doctor asks, not looking at anyone. They are glad, as all of them share a panicked look, before Jack comes forward with a reply.

“It got fried after you sent the message. Well, tried to. I didn’t work, that’s how you got electrocuted.”

“Hmm.” The Doctor says, but she seems to accept it.

“Are you alright?” Yaz asks. “That was a big shock.”

The Doctor cricks her neck to one side and then the other. “Nothing that the healing coma didn’t fix. The shock, along with my other injuries, must have pushed me into one for a bit. Tedious.”

“Was it the Silas bounty hunters who injured you?” Jack asks. The Doctor nods. Yaz can see a tick underneath Jack’s eye

“They thought it was funny. I did not. And neither will the Division.” She turns beady eyes on Jack. “You said you were looking for me. Why?”

Jack hesitates only briefly, and his lie is convincing. “Hearing about two heart beats, I knew you had to be a Timelord. Knowing about the Division, I thought if I helped you I might be given some… reward.”

The Doctor raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t work, did it? Is that why you want to help me now?”

Jack gives her a bashful smile. “I’m nothing if not hopeful.”

The Doctor rolls her eyes. She looks around at all of them, and Yaz catches her eye for a moment. It is so guarded, like a shutter has come down over her face. It reminds Yaz of the Doctor after their first incident with the Master, and it makes her stomach lurch, to think that this younger version of the Doctor has to be like this, always guarded, always putting up a front. She hopes her uncomfortableness does not show on her face. The Doctor looks away.

“Fine.” She says, “I’ll ‘let’ you help me.”

“Great, brilliant news.” Graham says, clapping his hands together. “So, where do we start?”

The Doctor’s eyes narrow. She replies after giving him a long look. Yaz has a feeling their trust has not so easily been gained as it seems. “If that machine didn’t work, I’m going to need to build something a bit more advanced.” She grits her teeth. “But there just isn’t the advanced technology I need to make something more efficient! You do realise your planet is very primitive, don’t you?” She says to them, and Graham’s eyebrows raise.

“Wait, wait, hang on!” Ryan suddenly says. “What about the Tardis?”

The Doctor’s eyes narrow, but Graham speaks before she can. “S’not here, son.”

“Wait, Ryan, do you mean the one we returned in?” Yaz asks, deciding to omit ‘Gallifrey’ from the sentence. She is not sure what this Doctor would make of that. Ryan nods. “Of course!”

They had not thought of it before, because the past two days have been a cat and mouse chase between the Doctor and themselves, as well as Yaz’s attempts to nurse her back to health. But now it made perfect sense that the other Tardis might offer them some sort of way of contacting the Division. They just had to ensure they remained one step ahead of the Doctor, to stop her doing something without them knowing about it. Easier said than done, when their Doctor would flip switches and turn dials and none of them would be any the wiser as to what it did, but it was the best chance they had, and besides, if this was a younger version of the Doctor, she might not be so adept at working a Tardis yet.

“How do _you_ have a Tardis?” The Doctor asks, indignation clear on her face. Yaz opens her mouth, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse, when the Doctor holds her hand out to wave her away.

“No, don’t bother, I don’t want any more excuses. Just take me to it. And if you’re lying, and this is some sort of trap, I will know about it.”

She raises herself from the sofa, wobbly slightly. Yaz reaches out to support her but the Doctor moves away from her touch. She downs the last of her tea, shoving the mug at Yaz’s chest, before straightening out her jacket, smoothing down her hair. She holds a hand out. “Gun?”

“I don’t think so.” Jack says. She grunts and shrugs as if to say, ‘well, can’t fault me for trying.’ The gun is sequestered deep in Jack’s coat pocket.

“We need to figure out how to get there. It’s right across town.” Yaz says. “Taxi, maybe?”

“Too much time, I’ve got a solution.” Jack says, a mischievous grin on his face. Yaz’s heart sinks. This smells like a hijacking. 

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, and Yaz’s suspicions have been well and truly confirmed. She is sat in the backseat of the car Jack had broken into and ‘commandeered’ for them, the Doctor next to her, with Ryan on her other side. Very much squished into compliance. Yaz had refused to drive a stolen car, and so Graham is at the wheel, looking to be having a bit too much fun.

“You were a bus driver, you said?” asks Jack, who is sat shotgun. He grabs at the roof handle when Graham takes a turn a little too sharply. “Did that job last long?”

“I’ll have you know I was a very safe and proficient driver.” Graham says, breaking suddenly as they round another bend. “This vehicle is just a bit nippier, for a codger like me.”

“Yeah, getting that.” Jack says between gritted teeth.

“I can’t believe we’ve stolen a car.” Yaz mutters under her breath. “If work ever finds out about it…”

“They won’t Yaz, we’ve been careful. Besides,” Ryan tries to lower his voice, but the point is null seeing as the Doctor is sat in between them. “if we get things back on track, excuses can easily be made. Just like with Daniel Barton.”

Yaz sighs, shaking her head. “That doesn’t mean I’m not unhappy about this.”

“What job do you do, that you don’t find breaking into a small earth vehicle a suitable choice to make for the sake of this concern?” The Doctor asks her, eyes piercing. Yaz has to look away. 

“I’m a police officer.” She explains. “Only on Earth, though. I don’t work with the Judoon, or anything. Too violent for me.”

“No, they’re moronic. You don’t strike me as moronic.” The Doctor observes. Yaz feels her cheeks flush. The Doctor observes her, a frown marring her brow. “How _do_ you have a Tardis?”

Yaz swallows nervously before replying. “We travelled with a friend, it was her Tardis.” Not quite the truth, but Yaz knows they must stick to the plan and not allow the Doctor to think they are acting for any other means than to help her get back to the Division.

“And this friend was a Timelord?” The Doctor asks.

“Yes.” Yaz replies. “It was her I got you confused with…. It’s an uncanny likeness.”

It is a poor lie, and they both know it, and the Doctor’s face is still incredibly guarded.

“Hmm.” She says. “Regenerations might duplicate. We’re all the same species, after all. Although how high that percentage is, I don’t know.”

“Well, it’s incredibly striking.” Yaz says, her throat tight. She cannot help herself when she next blurts out, “But she’s a lot nicer than you. Doesn’t use guns. Doesn’t immediately assume people are going to betray her.”

She licks her lips as she watches the Doctor’s eyes narrow. She just wants to _understand_ this person more, if they are a younger version of the Doctor. She is a land both familiar and unfamiliar, like walking a familiar path the wrong way round. Yaz had come to terms with the fact that her Doctor is not the only version of herself, and Yaz adores her. She had been, if not happy, understandable of why the Doctor had not told them everything about herself. Yaz was the same, about the things in her past. But now… seeing the impact of it in front of her, after all that had happened on Gallifrey, the Master… Yaz needs to understand, if she is to save them both.

“I do what is necessary. What does she do? Just travel?” She scoffs. “That is not the reason for our existence, and she wastes every single regeneration if that is what she uses them for. I’m sorry, but I am going to have to report her to my superiors once I am back. She’s dangerous. She could disrupt the space time continuum if they were to do anything not sanctioned!”

“Oh, and you’re not dangerous?” Yaz replies. “With your gun and your pompous attitude. And she didn’t just _travel._ She _helped_ people! She helped all of us. And now she’s helping you because there’s a Tardis on our _primitive_ planet!”

The Doctor looks long and hard at her, a tick twitching in her cheek. Finally, she asks, “Where is your friend?”

“She-” Yaz cuts off, throat closing up, unwanted tears rising in her eyes. “-She saved us, from a planet that was going to implode. We haven’t seen her since.” _We thought she was dead. We thought that if she had lived, she would have come back for us, but she must have been desperate to understand something, if she went looking for what has turned her into this. I won’t believe she did this without thinking of us. The Master wants me to think that, and I won’t._

She won’t…

“Well, the Division will find her, if she’s still alive.” Her voice is closed off, cold and uncaring, and Yaz wants to shout at her. Instead, she grits her teeth, staring resolutely out of the window. She does not notice the conflict which crosses the Doctor’s face for a moment before the mask slips back into place. 

* * *

There are no lights on in the windows of the Tardis as they pull up to the curve. It is still disguised as a cul-de-sac house, and the illusion that the owners inside are asleep, the interior the same as any other house on the street, is convincing. Yaz pulls in a heavy breath as she climbs out of the car, worry making her stomach churn. All must go well if they have any chance of trying to convince the Division to work with them against the Master, but there are so many odds against them it feels incredibly daunting.

She steels herself. For the Doctor.

All is dark and quiet within as it looked to be from outside. Only, the average visitor would most likely not expect the console of a spaceship to be found inside. The humans they brought back with them from Gallifrey are on their road trip, having planned for months, once they got over the initial shock of living in the twenty-first century, an exploration across the UK, and then beyond. Owing to a perception filter, the Tardis has remained unobserved and undisturbed since their departure.

The moment they step inside, the Doctor freezes, body tensing. The console remains dark, the circular nodules on the walls glowing a dull blue.

“This Tardis is not well.” She mutters. “What has happened to it?”

“Err…” Ryan says, looking at Yaz and Graham. They, too, are none the wiser.

“No,” The Doctor says, bending down to look below the console. “This isn’t right…”

Jack turns to the other whilst she is distracted, his brow furrowed. “This isn’t the Doctor’s Tardis,” he mutters. “How do you have this?”

“It’s a long story.” Ryan replies.

“And one we don’t have time for now.” Graham interjects.

“Someone has tampered with this Tardis!” The Doctor protests, voice furious. She looks up at them, strands of hair falling in front of her face.

“Ah, damn, that might’a been Ravio.” Ryan says, a hand coming up to his face, cupping his chin. He shakes his head. “She were asking me questions about Tardis technology. I didn’t think much of it at the time.”

The Doctor slams her hands into the underside of the console. “Can’t even get the engines working…” She licks her lips, thinking hard for a moment. Finally, an eyebrow is quirked, and she says, displeased. “New approach. Not as good, but at least it will get them in contact.”

“What ya thinking?” Jack asks, approaching her slowly.

“Need a way of locating the Division ship.” She replies, not looking at any of them. Thinking aloud more than answering Jack’s question. “Psychic circuits seem to be intact, link myself up, that will increase my own psychic abilities, widening the scope, hopefully should be able to locate them… But it’s not enough!”

“What am I missing here?” Graham says. She shots him a patronising look.

“Whoever you’ve let run around in here has fiddled with the wires and now it won’t fly!” She says between gritted teeth. Yaz makes notes of her referral to the Tardis as ‘it’ instead of ‘she.’

“So you need something to catalyse into the vortex?” Jack says slowly, hand going to his coat pocket.

“There’s nothing powerful enough to kick this one back into action, and that would take hours… but, if there was another thing I could use to get into the vortex and to the Division…. Then, yes, yes I do need something to catalyse me into the vortex, but this planet is so primitive!” The Doctor snarls. She slams the heel of her hand into the console. Yaz winces.

“So you need something like… this?” Jack asks, and he pulls out a small, leather wallet-looking object. The Doctor freezes in her rage-fuelled attack on the console, eyes narrowing before widening in surprise.

“You have a vortex manipulator?” She asks.

“A what?” Ryan asks.

Jack nods, waving the wallet, vortex manipulator, the Doctor had said, in the air. “I do. Bit old, bit beaten up, but if you can get it to work…” he raises an eyebrow as the Doctor strides towards him, reaching for the object. He holds it higher so she can’t reach.

She sighs. “I’ll talk to the Division about your reward.”

Jack smiles and passes her the vortex manipulator. “Thank you.” the moment the Doctor moves away from them, out of hearing range, Jack turns to the three humans. “Alright. Once she’s got that working and is ready to go to the Division, we’ll need to distract or detain her while one of us goes in her place. I’ll volunteer if nobody wants to.”

“No.” Yaz says. “I’ll go.”

Jack gives her a serious look. “You sure, Yaz? The Division… well, I’m sure you’ve got the impression right now that they’re not very nice.”

“It’s fine, I’ll do it.” Yaz says nodding her head. “Standing up to bullies. Getting the Docotr back. I can do that.”

Jack shots her a grin, briefly squeezing her upper arm. Ryan and Graham watch on, Graham’s face filled with pride, Ryan’s impressed. “Alright, gotcha…. Now, here’s the plan…” 

* * *

Yaz approaches the Doctor a little cautiously, conscious of not wanting to make her jump by sneaking up on her. Who knows what she might do when reacting to a possible threat in this state. The Doctor is hunched over under the console, fiddling with multiple wires, all of which Yaz has no idea what they do or are for. The Doctor seems to, though, and her dexterous fingers work quickly to thread wires together. She has had the soldering iron our more than once. The sight is so familiar, so reminiscent of Yaz’s Doctor, that she takes in a deep breath before clearing her throat.

The Doctor’s shoulders tense ever so slightly, and Yaz knows she’s caught her attention.

“Ya need any help?” She offers, kneeling down next to the Doctor.

“No.” The Doctor replies, concentrating on the task at hand. They sit in silence for a moment, Yaz watching the Doctor work as she finds a way to edge her way into a full conversation.

“I’m sorry, if I was harsh on you earlier,” She is not, but if it will get her some answers, she is willing to say so. “I only wanted to understand why you’re so willing to… do what you do, for the sake of the Division.”

“It’s all I have, that’s why.” The Doctor replies, reaching for her soldering iron. “It’s given me a purpose, a chance to make a difference.”

Yaz does not question why the Doctor seems to believe violence is the best way of doing that, because right now she needs the Doctor to think she is not criticising her or the Division. “Did you not feel you had one before then?”

The Doctor gives her a look out of the corner of her eye, hesitating with the soldering iron in her hand.

“Only, I’ve felt the same.” Yaz says. “Like I didn’t have a purpose. The Police, they helped me find one.”

The Doctor hesitates for a moment. Finally she replies, “Don’t try to relate, our life experiences are not the same.” Yaz sits back, disappointed. The Doctor goes to use the soldering iron, but her hand hesitates again, until eventually it drops down to her side. “The Division is all I’ve ever really known. Well, my father, he is involved, and he is all I’ve ever really had, so…”

“Father?” Yaz cannot help herself from blurting out. The Doctor had mentioned grandmothers before, but this is something completely different.

“Well, gendered pronouns are a little obsolete, but yes, father.” The Doctor replies, and this time she does pick up her soldering iron, getting to work on soldering two wires together. Yaz sits by her, letting the information sink in and formulating a new question.

“So, your father is the one who got you involved with this?” Yaz asks her, once the soldering iron is put down and the Doctor is instead reaching up to find something within the console.

“I couldn’t not be involved, he has given me everything.” The Doctor replies, grimacing as she gropes, apparently wildly, inside the console. “You don’t know what my people are like. It was this or… nothing.”

“Have you ever thought you might want something different?” Yaz asks, and she knows that question is a little too risky, but she holds her breath and asks it anyway.

“No,” The Doctor replies assuredly, and Yaz can see it is not her true personality speaking, it is the Division. This Doctor, this younger, and obviously pressured Doctor, has been trained and manipulated into allegiance, because she had nothing else. Yaz shivers. “There’s no time for dreaming, my father will tell you that one for free. Aha!” She pulls out a metallic frame, immediately bending down to start fiddling with it.

Yaz swallows the bile that rises in her throat. “You’re right,” She says hoarsely. “Our life experiences are not the same.”

Yaz has faced her own battles, and still does, but she is fortunate enough to have been in the position where her parents have supported her hopes and dreams and never once doubted in Yaz’s ability to achieve them, even if Yaz herself has. She wonders how the Doctor ever got herself out of this and became the woman Yaz knows. She realises she is not sure how old this Doctor is, but the other woman speaks before she can ask.

“Your friend seems to be the exception to all the rules of my people.” She says, eyes concentrating on her work. “I don’t know how I haven’t heard of her. If father found out I had run away, abandoned all my duties…”

“He’d what?” Yaz pushes ever so carefully.

The Doctor shoots a joyless smile. “I’m a trained killer, what do you think he’d do?”

Yaz reels back, sucking in a breath as her head spins slightly. She does not know what to say, does not know if she can speak past the lump in her throat. Eventually, words come out, fighting through treacle laced with shock. “I don’t think she’s ever lived by the rules. I think she’s always rewritten them, because she couldn’t stand being stifled like that. I don’t think she likes being caught up, that’s why she ran away.”

The Doctor hands slip a little on the metal frame, and she swears, bringing her finger to her lip. She has cut it slightly. Yaz watches her movements very carefully.

“Well, she sounds very lucky.” The Doctor says, a little wistfully, as if she is not even thinking about it. She shakes her hand, letting air get to her wound. She looks at Yaz, and her eyes are deep and serious. “But very stupid. Defying our people like that-”

“But wouldn’t you rather be stupid and lucky, sometimes, if that meant you were free from the rules?” Yaz asks, really testing her luck, but she feels closer to this Doctor than she has yet, and if she pushes then it could really be worth it. “If you were able to make the choices you really wanted to, rather than the ones you were told to make? Wouldn’t it make you happier to choose rather than to follow orders?”

“Why are you asking me these questions?” The Doctor asks, and she sounds angry, but it is not the anger of a brain-washed _child_ (it was her _father_ who had made her do all this, Yaz remembers with a sickening jolt), but the anger of a scared child, who is being confronted with thoughts and, despite what she might have said, hopes and dreams she had secretly harboured.

“I just want to understand. You’re the only other Timelord I’ve met,” she decides to omit the Master from the proceedings; he has done enough damage. “and you’re so different from her. But…. I don’t think you are; I think there’s some of her in you…”

The Doctor shakes her head slightly, but her eyes do not speak of any resolute denial of Yaz’s words. “I can’t afford to be like that,” she admits quietly, her fingers fiddling with the metal frame. She takes a deep breath, and Yaz can see her compose her usual cold demeanour. Yaz wonders how much that is the habit of someone trained to not be frightened, even thought they’re full of fear. “And I can’t afford to be having this conversation. Forget about this, Yaz. It does not matter. The Division will probably wipe your mind anyway.” And she pointedly turns back to her work, fingers moving quickly to connect wires to the metal frame. Yaz notices, though, the slight tremor in her fingers, and she pulls away, hopeful that maybe she has struck at some diamond deep down inside this person. A diamond that shines just like her Doctor. 

* * *

Yaz remains nearby, conscious that for their plan to work she might need to step in quickly to get the vortex manipulator from the Doctor. She is hoping their conversation might have put a little hesitation in the Doctor’s mind, and that woman won’t just disappear without so much as a ‘goodbye,’ as well as providing some useful information for Yaz that has cleared the fog which shrouds the Doctor in mystery. It is the most she has ever gotten from the Doctor about herself, which is ironic, considering the circumstances. And she feels ready, now, to confront this Division, to bring them to task, although she knows she cannot go too far, if she is to get them on side. But she will make it known that they were wrong, to stifle the Doctor and turn into what she is not, because Yaz has seen in action her power to change the universe without touching a weapon. And she is the only one who can beat the Master.

Yaz is just hoping it does not almost kill her this time. Kill any of them.

“Ahh!” The Doctor cries triumphantly, removing the metal frame connected to many wires from her head. “Got them!” She moves quickly to the console, where she has placed the vortex manipulator in a special compartment, connected to the psychic circuits. She smiles as she looks at the object. “And there are the coordinates.”

She picks the vortex manipulator up, and looks over at the four other occupants of the Tardis. Yaz is still closest to her, on purpose, and the Doctor’s eyes flit to her before focusing on the others. “Don’t think you won’t be followed up by the Division. They’ll be able to track you now I’ve got a memory of your faces. And I’ve got your vortex manipulator!” She says to Jack, eyebrows raised. Jack raises his hands in surrender.

“Don’t you forget my face, I want that reward.” He says slyly.

The Doctor sighs impatiently. “Well, thank you for you… ‘help.’”

Graham huffs and Ryan frowns. Yaz is not sure what they expected from this Doctor.

She is shocked, then, when the Doctor turns to her, and that steely gaze softens somewhat. “Yaz… I am sorry about your friend.”

Yaz is lost for words, her brain too occupied with the fact that she needs to get the vortex manipulator from the Doctor before she can press any buttons. Yaz wets her lips with her tongue, shaking her head.

“No,” She manages to get out, realising this could be the moment she loses that tentative trust the Doctor has put in her which she had just admitted to Yaz with those words. She tells herself there is nothing to lose, that this is all wrong, but it stills sits heavy in her stomach. “I’m sorry.”

And before the Doctor, even her with her apparent assassin training, can react, Yaz grabs the vortex manipulator from her and pushes the first button her fingers find. And, with an energy which is all consuming, she feels herself being pulled away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Also, if you'd like to follow me on tumblr my username is Walker-Lister (with a dash!) I'm not kidding when I say I have 3 followers who don't interact so I'd appreciate some friends over there! 
> 
> Just to let you know I'm really reaching crunch-time with my dissertation so if any updates are bit slower that's why! Less than two weeks to go now so it's getting quite frantic! I'll see you in the next update!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about the long wait. Finally got my dissertation finished, and then I just needed a few days to unwind and realise I just completed my degree! But, to hopefully make up for it, i tried to make this as long as possible. I haven't properly checked it for mistakes, so please forgive those, i was just so eager to get it to you (plus i hate proof-reading, i didn't even proof-read my diss properly haha... fuck) I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> TW: see tags

Yaz blinks rapidly, eyes streaked with light, stomach roiling. She gasps, breathing heavily, stumbling to the side. She cannot make out much yet, her eyesight saturated with streaks of light, only a darkness beyond those streaks, heavy colours of gold and burgundy…

“What in the heavens….” A voice says, and Yaz can make out a figure approaching her, hear the movement of thick material as they stride towards her. She instinctively backs up a little, putting her hands in the air to show she is not armed. “Who are you?!”

Yaz looks up, to see a woman with extremely well-defined cheekbones and a severe expression on her face. Her hair is pulled back into a slick ponytail, and a headpiece frames her face, making her look even more domineering. She looks at Yaz like she is the dirt under her shoe.

“I’m not armed.” Yaz says, getting her breath back. Her head has stopped spinning and her stomach is settling into calm waters rather than choppy seas, and it gives her a chance to look at where she is. rich interiors and mahogany-looking walls enclose this spacious yet cosy room. A large table resides in the middle, but Yaz cannot see if there is anyone sat at it past the looming figure in front of her.

“How did you get on board our ship?! It shouldn’t be possible!” The woman spits.

“It was the Doctor.” Yaz says and watches the woman’s expression very carefully. Her eyes widen, nostrils flaring. “She sent me here.”

“The _Doctor._ ” The woman spits, shocked.

“Gat.” Says another voice from behind the woman. She, Gat, turns and moves so that Yaz has a clear view of the person to whom the voice belongs.

He is an austere looking man, although his face holds a measured calmness, a man who knows he has power and does not worry about trying to keep it. Well, the news Yaz has for him might change that. She takes a deep breath, straightening her spine and approaching the seated man.

“Yeah, the Doctor. And I know what you’ve done to her, and I know where she is, and why, and you need to listen to me. You’re in danger, we’re all in danger.” She says, voice calm and measured to match the innate confidence the man emits. Her heart maybe be racing inside her chest, but Yaz is as strong as Sheffield steel.

The man gives her a long look, depositing the sheets of paper he had been holding down on the table with the flick of his wrist. He sighs, fingers entwining together. “Who _are_ you?”

“My name is Yasmin Khan. I travel with the Doctor.”

“Oh,” Gat tuts behind her. “She’s human.”

Yaz does not turn to look at the woman, does not grace her with her attention. “Yes, I am human. But that does not make me worth less than you. and right now, I know more about what is happening then you do. I’m here to warn you, so I think you’d best listen.”

She can tell the man is impressed, and his gaze leaves her to nod at Gat, before turning back to Yaz, looking her up and down. Behind her, Yaz hears a door slide open and the close again. There are alone then, her and this man, and a creeping suspicion is growing in her mind as to who he is.

“I am curious to know how the Doctor is with you. Where have you come from, Earth?” Yaz nods in reply. He makes a surprised noise. “My, she has gone off route. We were wondering where she was. So please, enlighten me as to what it is that I do not know.”

“You sent the Doctor after the Master, right?” Yaz asks.

“Oh,” Tecteun says, slightly taken aback. Yaz feels perhaps a bit too smug she has managed to catch him out already. “I had not thought… the Master, then, yes, now you say it, it does make sense…We hear his name sometimes, we know he is from Gallifrey, much later than we are, but very rarely do we come into direct contact with him.”

“Well he’s looking for direct contact with you now.” Yaz replies, and she steps forward, placing a palm against the surface of the wood. It is cold under her hand. “He wants to lure ya to Earth to kill you. He’s got this thing called the Cyberium, and it will kill you and transform you into emotionless killers.” The irony of that expression is not lost on Yaz, as she thinks of what the Division has done to the younger Doctor. She avoids any mention of the Gallifrey in ruins they had seen, wary that anything she could say might create a tear in space and time. The Doctor has drilled that into them enough times. “And when he’s done that, he’s coming for humanity, too.”

“My, my. That is ambitious of him.” The man remarks, and although his tone is light, at her close proximity, Yaz can see the ident forming on his brow.

“That’s why we think it might be in your best interests to help us, so that we can help each other. Help humanity, defeat the Master, and we’ll both be saved.” She hesitates slightly

“But?” The man prompts.

“But,” Yaz goes on, wetting her lips with her tongue. “I only know one person who can defeat him. Believe me when I say, you won’t be enough.”

The man scoffs at that, the arrogance he has graceful kept checked slipping through. “And let me guess who that is, the Doctor, perhaps?”

“Then you must know how important it is that she is restored back to herself, if we all want to stop him.” Yaz presses.

“And that’s what you want, is it? Save humanity, but in the process, you get the Doctor back whilst we lose out on one of our best agents?”

Yaz scoffs herself, then. “She wasn’t yours to take in the process. she came to you after-” she bites her tongue against her anger. She cannot mention Gallifrey. “She came to you for answers, for help.”

The man raises an eyebrow. “She did not come to us, we came to her. Picked her up from a Judoon prison.”

“ _What?”_ Yaz asks, her hand tensing against the tabletop. _Prison?_ The Master had lied. She could smack herself. Of course he had. She had just been so desperate to believe him. What had the Doctor been in prison for?!

“Why do you want to help the Doctor so badly, Yasmin Khan?” The man leans forward, still entwined fingers thumping against the table top. “What do you really know about her?”

“I know she’s the bravest and most selfless person I know. She never says no when someone needs help. I want to return the favour. She’s my best friend.”

The man lets out a small laugh, and Yaz knows he means every patronising inch of it. She bristles. “How very human of you, Yasmin Khan. I am impressed the Doctor has kept so much from you. She always was so emotional, erratic. But s]he has deceived you well.”

“Stop it.” Yaz says, shaking her head. If she has realised her mistake in taken the Master’s word as gospel, there is no way she will make the same mistake with this man. She has found answers, now she is looking for solutions

“What did she pose herself as, I wonder? The kooky traveller?” The man asks her, tilting his head to the side. “You have no clue as to how many civilisations she has seen rise and fall, and the role she has played in ensuring that they continue to rise and fall. One does not live as long as she has and retain any innocence.”

“Don’t think I’m not so stupid as to not understand she has a past, and how desperately she does not want us to know about it. How desperate she is to move past that. I respect it.” Yaz insists. She would not have said the same a few months ago, in the grip of the Doctor’s mardy mood when she had been desperate to know anything just to get some clarity, but having learnt certain truths, she understands, or tries to, with her limited life span, how someone so old might want to recreate themselves a dozen times over. Anything Yaz wants to know, it’s because she wants to know her better, not to judge her worse. She knows _her_ Doctor, and has learnt a lot about The Doctor as a person in the last few days. She will grasp at whatever the Doctor might choose to tell her, but remain satisfied nonetheless. “Don’t try to scare me off. I’m helping get her back. You’re not going to turn me against her. You’re ten times worse than she is. she told me all about you. You’re her father, aren’t you? You’re the one who forced her being into a killer?”

The man laughs, and it is not a controlled laugh to match his superior haughtiness, but one genuinely amused. He shakes his head slightly. “As humans go, you are certainly one of the spunkier ones I have met. How did you know who I am? She herself had no clue until I picked her up from the Judoon prison. I ensured she would not know.”

“Like I said, the Master is dangerous.” Yaz replies, matching his own elusiveness hints about the Doctor with her own about the Master. Two can play at that game.

The man meets her answer with a cock of his eyebrow and small hum. He pushes his chair back suddenly, rising to his feet. Yaz realises he is rather tall. He moves away from his chair and into the space of the room. Yaz pulls back to follow his movement. “I’m afraid as far as your Doctor goes, I can’t be of much help. Someone stole her, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, and who do you think that was?” Yaz says, rolling her eyes. “Can’t you see? The Master managed to overpower your ‘best agent’ and drop her off with bounty hunters, now he’s stolen the Doctor from you! He’s tricky, you’re not going to be able to take him down without _her_ help!”

The man looks sorry for her then, and Yaz’s stomach roils with the sheer frustration of it all. _Why won’t he listen?!_ “Oh, Yasmin Khan. I see you are keen to try and uncomplicate what you do not understand, and what you do not know. I cannot simply give up the Doctor. I need her. Gallifrey needs her. Gallifrey is _of_ her. The younger version, in body and soul, has run off, and we cannot find her.”

Yaz thinks briefly of Ruth, the woman the Doctor had told them had been her, disguised as a human. _Of course._ That Doctor had run, too. “What did you do to her? Not my Doctor, but your own _child._ ”

“If you had the power of a god in your hands, in the form of a young child, helpless, alone, would you not use it to seek power of your own, to become god-like in your civilisation?” The man asks, shrugging as if the answer is a simple one.

“No.” Yaz spits. _A child? His child? The Doctor?_ “I wouldn’t, what does that even-”

He smiles sardonically. “I told you, you would not understand.”

Yaz’s head is spinning with the information and the way the man paces in front of her. She grits her teeth. “I understand that your power is corrupt. And I understand that the _Doctor_ is much more than your puppet. I spoke to her. You want to know why the other version ran off, so you had to commit this perverse hijack? Because you are not powerful enough to contain her. Because your power is _weak.”_

The man finally breaks, showing a fiery flare of fury. He closes in on Yaz, and she is forced to back up against the table until her lower back meets the edges, digging in uncomfortably. “You’ve got a funny way of convincing me to work with you. Perhaps you have just doomed your planet to ruin. Thank you for the information, I am sure we can track down this Master and retrieve the Doctor. The body should follow the soul, she will not betray me. I am her father, after all.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.” Yaz says, staring back into the depths of his eyes.

The man chuckles. “Run back to you planet, Yasmin Khan. Prepare for our arrival. And say goodbye to the Doctor.”

And then suddenly he is reaching out and grabbing for her wrist. “No, wait!” Yaz cries, but it is too late. The man presses the button on the vortex manipulator, and Yaz is whisked into the vortex. 

* * *

“Get your hands off of me!” She screams, scrambling against Jack’s tight hold.

“If I do, will ya listen to me?” He asks, teeth gritted against the impressive fight the Doctor is giving him.

“Why should I? You just betrayed me.” She spits. She has been putting up an outstanding fight since Yaz disappeared into thin air, but the men had been anticipating this, and so had prepared, determined not to let her catch them out this time, hence Jack’s tight hold upon her. Ryan watches with a large amount of sympathy for both participants in the impromptu brawl. Both would have some nasty bruises. Their Doctor would not be happy about that.

“Yeah, and you were ‘bout to do that anyway, so I think that makes us even.” Ryan says, face serious, no room for compromise.

She breathes heavily for a moment, caught by his words. “Fine.” She answers. “Fine. You’ve got no idea what you’ve done. You’ve just put her in serious danger. Tecteun won’t take well to a human on board his ship.”

“Oh, is Tecteun your commander?” Jack asks, loosening his grip but keeping a vice-like hold on her arm. She glares down at it then up at him.

“You could say that.”

Jack can see her eyeing the gun which resides in his pocket, on show as he leans to keep a hold of her. He sighs.

“Listen, Doctor, I don’t care whatever version of yourself you are or if you think the best thing to do right now is to kill me. Believe me, if you tried that, we’d be here for eternity. But I think it would be in your best interests to listen to us and then see if you want to work with us.”

“Work with you against what? The Division?”

“No, listen, Yaz has gone to them to talk to them, to convince them to work alongside us against the Master.” Ryan explains.

“Who?”

“The man who you were trying to take out, the one who gave you to the bounty hunters.” Graham contributes.

“He’s got this plan, and if he gets away with it, it’s the end for humanity, and it’s the end for your Division, too. And you.”

“What do you mean? What is he planning?”

_Okay, she’s willing to listen. You’ve got this Ryan. This is only the Doctor. A younger, violent and delusional version of the Doctor, but the Doctor, nonetheless._

“He’s got this thing, called the Spyberium-” Graham says before Ryan can speak.

“Cyberium.” Ryan corrects, sighing.

“Right, _Cy_ berium.” Graham corrects himself. “With it, he can convert living matter into cybermen. First, he wants the Division, and then he wants humanity. We were tryin’ to convince your Division to work with us against him, seein’ as it’s in all of our best interests.”

“I doubt they will accept.” She says with a raised eyebrow, but her words are not scathing, simply matter of fact. 

“But we had to try.” Jack says, his grip on her loosening slightly.

“And then what? What would you want from them in return?” She asks, curling her lip. She catches Ryan’s eye, then, and his stomach jolts when he sees something different from the normal irritation and pomposity. Fear. And defeat.

He chooses his words carefully. “Nothin’. You’ve said they’re so powerful, their help will be enough.”

She scoffs, and she is just about to say something when suddenly, in a burst of light and a sizzling of electricity which thrums through the air, Yaz is thrown back into the console room, landing flat on her back, chest heaving.

“Yaz!” Ryan rushes towards her, steadying her into a seated position. She scrambles for a moment before chucking the vortex manipulator across the room. Slowly, she shakes her head.

“Damn.” Jack mutters.

“Didn’t I say so?” The Doctor says, but her tone is exhausted, and she is no longer fighting against Jack’s grip.

“They’re going after the Master, they’ve fallen for his plan.” Yaz says in between ragged breaths as Ryan helps her scramble to her feet. “He’ll kill them. And then us.”

“We need to think of something else, there’s got to be something else.” Jack says, brow furrowed.

An idea begins to grow in Ryan’s head, then, and he knows it is risky, but right now, it seems it might be the only choice they have left other than become helpless to the Master and the Division. He turns to the Doctor, walking closer.

“There is something else.” She raises her chin, looking at him. He takes a deep breath. “You’re not you. I mean you are, but, what I mean to say is,” He can hear Yaz’s breath catch behind him, but he pushes on. “The Division, they captured our Doctor and used a thing called the chameleon arch to remove her from her body and put you in her place. The Division are using you, both versions of you. but the thing is….”

“She could save us from the Master.” Graham finishes for him, looking at the Doctor with kind eyes. “She could stop him.”

There is beat, perhaps two, before she speaks. “Funny of you to think I had not already figured that out.”

There is silence. She scoffs, but the noise is sad, not petulant.

“Oh please, I did think it was odd, when I suddenly woke up in the place I didn’t remember being when I fell asleep, but fath- _Tecteun,_ he’s always pulling something, and I had a job to do, but your pitying and sad looks have been getting under my skin ever since you found me. I know you think I’m your friend, it’s written all over Yaz’s face that I am somehow _wrong._ It was only a matter of time before Tecteun pulled something like this. I’m valuable to him, a prized possession. That’s all I am to Tecteun. Don’t you understand? That’s what I’m for.”

“But you’re his _child!_ ” Yaz protests, and Ryan can see, when he turns to look, the pain and pity in her eyes.

“His child?” Graham says, astonished, and Ryan is matching his astonishment with his own. “Who does that to their child…” He mutters under his breath.

“The Timelords aren’t the nicest people, silver fox.” Jack mutters, and Ryan tenses, prepared for the Doctor be offended, but if anything, she looks to be in agreement.

“But you don’t want to be.” Yaz says, voice broken, like shards of glass.

“And you won’t be, not forever.” Jack says. “We’re all proof of what you really are. _Who_ you really are.”

“What do you expect me to do?” She asks, shoving herself out of Jack’s grip. He lets her go, the heavy atmosphere lowering their defences. “I’m not enough for you, and really, I’ll never be enough for the Division, too. Don’t you get it? Their ‘best agent’ is used like a pawn because she is weak enough to let that happen.”

“No, you’ve got it backwards.” Yaz says. “You’re too much for them. That’s why they control you.”

Ryan catches something in her gaze, then, and he wonders what she heard when she was face to face with the Timelords.

The Doctor laughs, a bitter and empty sound. “But still I’m not enough for you lot. I’m not _her._ ”

“It’s not like that.” Ryan presses. “She and the Master, they know each other, she knows how he operates. And he’s got her. The fob watch version of her.” At her bewildered look he adds, “They used a, ermm… Chameleon arc-”

“Chameleon _arch.”_ She finishes for him, understanding flashing across her face before she shakes her head, lip curling. “So you want me to sacrifice myself, to stop the Master from killing both you and the Division?”

There is a pregnant silence before Ryan answers with a shrug, “Yeah, that’s pretty much it.”

“Oh, so it’s win win for you lot, isn’t it?” She spits. “Get the Master out the way and the old me back. Or should I say _older?_ Confusing, isn’t? See how I feel?”

“C’mon Doctor, I know you know this is the only way! And wouldn’t you want the chance to finally outmanoeuvre the Division? Take them by surprise and get yourself out from under their thumb?” Ryan presses. 

“Ryan…” Yaz mutters behind him, and he waves her back. He knows what he is asking is risky, but it’s all they have left.

“You’d be saving the world whilst ya did it.” Ryan mutters. “You’d be helping so many people.”

She looks at him, long and hard. Her breathing is as ragged as Yaz’s, and he watches as her eyes flit from his to stare at the woman behind him, her brow creasing slightly. She looks like she might shout or cry.

She does neither, turning instead on her heel, heading towards the door. Jack does not stop her, and Ryan wants to protest, but Graham puts a soft hand on his shoulder. The latch on the door closes, and she is gone.

“We tried, son.” Graham squeezes his shoulder.

“Where d’you think she’ll go?” Ryan mutters.

“She’s got nothing to signal to the Division,” Jack shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “She didn’t even take her gun.”

“Might build a new transmitter.” Yaz suggests, coming to stand by them. “But… they’re on their way, anyway, following the Master. It’s only a matter of time now before either she finds them, or they find her.” She turns on Ryan then, shooting a look filled with fire. “Ryan, what happened? Earlier we were all secrecy and ‘don’t tell her a thing about her not being the Doctor’, and now you’re flat out explaining that she’s not who she thinks she is!”

“To be fair Yaz, love, I think she’d reached the conclusion she was somehow someone else before Ryan told her just then.” Graham says kindly, sticking his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, and don’t you get onto me about not being discreet, apparently you had it written all over your face, according to her.” Ryan rallies back.

“You didn’t hear what she told me, Ryan!” Yaz replies, cheeks flushing. “And what that man said!”

“Well that’s hardly my fault, is it?” Ryan cries.

“Alright, kids, now isn’t the time to argue.” Jack says, interjecting, and Ryan is just about to tell him to butt out when he pushes past them to approach the console, pacing around it. “I’m not familiar enough to know what to do with any of this. why did they have to make their technology so blasted complicated?”

“Maybe the best thing to do now is try to anticipate where and when the Master will turn up. He said last night he’d give up twenty-four hours. What time is it now?”

“Just gone ten in the morning.” Ryan says with surprise as he checks his phone.

“We should go, we need to return that car.” Graham says, and heads for the door. He exits the Tardis only to return a moment later, a grimace on his face. “Rethink that one. She’s taken it.”

Ryan swears. 

* * *

Midday has come and passed by the time they make it back to Graham’s house, having been wary for the sudden appearance of a maniac with the power to destroy life and for the Doctor, as well. Yaz knows she will be fine, and yet, with all she’s learnt, and coming face to face with the timelords, there is a pain in her chest at the thought of the Doctor going back. She can only hope she had listened to what they had been saying.

“Maybe she just needs time to think.” Graham reassures her as he catches her cast one last look across his street before they enter his house. She gives him a small smile.

“I’m gonna get on Twitter, see if there’s anything on there about any weird lookin’.” Ryan says as Graham heads for the kitchen, muttering something about lunch and a cup of tea.

“Might as well get rested whilst we re-evaluate.” Jack shrugs, sitting himself down next to Ryan on the sofa. The other man shoots him a look out of the corner of his eye as Jack’s arm rests across the back of the sofa, encompassing Ryan. Yaz tries to muster a small grin at Jack’s wink at her, but it must come out more of a grimace, as Jack shoots her a reassuring smile.

“You did the best you could, kid.”

“But I don’t think I did.” Yaz says, slumping into Graham’s armchair. “I let his words anger me. All those things he said about the Doctor….”

“What did he say?” Ryan asks, looking up from his phone. Graham comes to lean against the doorframe between living room and kitchen.

“The Master, he’s angry at the Division for something, and he was so angry about it before that he destroyed a whole planet. And all he said was ‘lies’.” They nod, so she continues. “Well, the man, he said something about the Doctor not even knowing how valuable she is, and about having the power of a god in a small child, and building a civilisation upon that…” She trails off, not sure how to conclude, but that thought has been bugging her the entire way back to Graham’s house.

“Are you thinking the Doctor is that child?” Jack asks.

She shrugs. “Makes sense, doesn’t it? As to why the Timelords would want to control that power for themselves, maybe why the Master is so angry?”

Ryan puts his face in his hands. “Man, I am so confused.”

“One thing you should know about the Doctor, she is infinitely complicated.” Jack says, shaking his head.

Yaz leans forward herself, running fingers through snagging hair. “Is this all we can do? Just sit and wait here for something to happen?”

“We’re not doing nothing, we’re keeping an eye on things.” Jack reassures. “And besides, rest is still something. Rest and food.”

“Maybe if we can get close enough to the Master, we can get the fob watch off of him?” Yaz suggests lamely through a yawn. She feels useless, angry at herself for handling the situation so badly. And now, the Doctor might turn against them and they will never get her out of the hands of the Division. They will be dead, if the Master has his way.

“Get some rest Yaz,” Jack says, offering up his seat next to Ryan for her. Against her good conscious, she sinks into the sofa. Her body and mind are so tired…

“Get some rest, mate.” Ryan tells her. “I’ll just be on Twitter for a bit longer. We’ll wake you up for some food.”

She nods, and she lets her head rest against his shoulder. Ryan does not complain.

“Yaz?” He says quietly, catching her just before she slides into sleep.

“Yeah.” She mumbles.

“M’sorry for arguing with ya.” He says.

“S’okay.” She replies, and then sleep takes her. 

* * *

Yaz dreams of fire, and a fierce wind which whips up the flames, and they converge on her body in a whirlwind, lapping at her arms and legs. She cannot move, and the rings of flames closes in, the heat becoming unbearable. Yaz tries to cry out but finds she cannot.

There is a figure just beyond the flame, seemingly made out of shadows. Yaz catches the wisps of light hair as they approach, the glint in their eyes. She longs to call out. _Doctor!_

The Doctor stares at her, her eyes reflecting the flames. The shadows of her body blend with the flame, and she at once is darkness and light. Yaz long to reach out and touch, but the fire is a wall between them. The Doctor simply stares, not at all bothered when her body becomes engulfed in flames. It does not hurt her, but instead moulds to her. She is more powerful than the forces of nature.

She evaluates Yaz, finally shaking her head and turning away. Yaz screams internally, begging her to come back, telling her she is sorry, but the Doctor cannot hear her, and she walks away into the shadows, body still shaped by the flickering fire.

Yaz’s mouth will not open, and she silently suffers as the flames consume her. 

* * *

“Yaz! Wake up!” Ryan’s voice calls out, and Yaz startles away, gasping for breath as she sits up, back hitting the arm of the sofa. She looks down at herself, getting her bearings, and finding a blanket stretched across her legs. Ryan is stood above her, and she is not sure how long it’s been since she was resting on his shoulder to her lying down with a blanket on her, and him standing above her.

“Ryan? What time s’it?” She asks, mouth dry, brain still wired with fear from her dream. She breathes out heavily.

“Seven PM.” He says, grimacing at her shocked expression. “We were gonna wake you, but you were out, mate, like proper out.”

Yaz swings her legs over the side of the sofa, pushing the blanket aside. “I could’ve helped!” She protests. “What’s happening?”

“We think we know where the Master’s gonna go. Turns out Graham’s bus mates really are useful if you want something odd spotted.” Ryan says, and Yaz notices he already has his jacket and trainers on, and then realises, a little alarmed, that hers have been removed.

“Where is it?” She stands, the ghost of the dream sticking to her skin. She spots her shoes by Graham’s armchair, and her jacket slung over the back, and grabs for them.

“By Nether Padley. Gran used to take me out to ride ma bike there. It’s quite far out of the city, we’ll have to hurry.” He says, and Yaz follows him out into the hallway. Graham is buy the door, shrugging on his jacket, his face looking more lined and haggard than usual in the wan light of the early evening.

“Where’s Jack?” Yaz asks, but Graham simply opens the door and gestures for her to step outside, his face disapproving. Yaz steps outside, and in the growing darkness, she can make out Jack’s body, stood by the open door of a car. She sighs.

“Two carjacking’s in twenty-four hours? Gotta be a record, I must say.” He says, cocking his head to the side.

“Let’s just get this out of the way before I think too much about it.” Yaz says, and strides towards the car. 

* * *

Yaz’s heart feel as if it might burst in her chest when they finally pull up in the car park, which is deserted at cars, all those who might have made use of the nearby walking paths having long headed for home. She is reminded of when they went into battle with the Cyberman, at the beginning of the whole business with the Cyberium. She is sure she felt like this then, too. Cold dread mixing with fiery determination. Yaz will not go down without a fight. She just wishes she had phoned her family before donning the armour.

She pushes thoughts of her loved ones to the side, following Ryan’s lead as she uses his phone flash as a flash light, guiding their way across the gravelly car park and to an open field. In the far distance, the glowing lights of Sheffield are oddly comforting. Yaz will defend this with all she has.

“What exactly should we be looking out for, exactly?” Ryan asks as they trudge across the damp grass. Yaz can already feel the moisture seeping into her trainers. They crest the hill, and as they do come to an abrupt halt.

“Err, somethin’ like that?” Graham says.

“Yeah.” Jack agrees. “Something exactly like that.”

There, leaning casually against the side of his Tardis, still disguised like the hut from the outback, smiling like the cat that got the cream, is the Master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! We're getting towards the grand finale!! Also, I guessed based on some google map research that the place Ryan rides his bike might be the one i use (i lost my patience with the articles about filming locations), but if anyone knows the actual place please let me know and i will change it! 
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr at walker-lister, i'd love to hear from you!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting schedule who? Finished this earlier so thought I'd post. Everything is really gonna start kicking off here!! I'm both excited and nervous for you all to read it!! Enjoy!!
> 
> TW: minor character death(s)

“Welcome!” The Master cries when he sees them, pushing away from his Tardis and clapping his hands together. “Welcome! I am so glad you could make it! Oh,” He looks around, head darting from side to side. “You’re missing a member? Not here, is she? Oh dear… you’re not taking me up on my offer, then?”

“’Fraid not.” Jack says, planting his feet firmly as they stand a few feet away from the Master.

“Well, what am I meant to do?” He shrugs. He leans back against his Tardis, inspecting his nails. “Our deal was you’d let me invade the earth with the Cyberium if I gave you the Doctor, but you’ve got no body to house the machine.”

“You could still give it to us, ya know?” Ryan asks, and he holds his hand out. The Master raises his eyebrows, hand going to his jacket pocket and pulling out the fob watch. He examines it carefully, and then slowly turns his head to them.

“I could.” He concedes, a shark-like grin growing on his face. “But I’m not going to, am I?” He says, confirming Yaz’s suspicions. He giggles maniacally. “I’ve got all the aces in my hand! And I will finally reap the rewards!” He sighs, and looks at the fob watch again, almost lovingly. “Part of me wishes she was here for this, just so I could see the look on her face when I wipe out all she has left! But enough of this!” He tucks the fob watch back into his jacket pocket. “So nice of you to turn up, but there’s really nothing you can do so just… pop off home, and await your conversion, will you?”

“Not a chance.” Yaz shakes her head.

“I thought you’d say that Yaz! That’s why I secretly like you!” He winks at her and she desperately wants to punch him in the face.

“Mate, c’mon, you don’t have to do this.” Ryan says. “You’ve got a problem with the Division? Take it up with them on another planet, yeah?”

“Oh, but it’s not just the Division, Ryan.” The Master slowly shakes his head. “It’s the Doctor, too. And then it’s the Division _and_ the Doctor. They are both so intertwined, without the Doctor even knowing it until I discovered the secret of our people! Do you know how irritating it is, for your entire life to be entwined with another’s, for you to discover they are so much more than you? Well, I had to make her less, didn’t I? had to make her see how little choice over her own life she has had. And then I had to take the next best thing from her, when I realised I could… little old you. Humanity. She’s always had such a thing for earth.”

“All this, because you were feeling self-conscious?” Graham asks, shaking his head. The Master’s eyes blaze with fury.

“Do not presume to know me, human! You have no idea!”

Suddenly, from above them, there comes a powerful force which causes Yaz to stumble a little before she regains her footing. A fierce wind whips her hair into her face and she pushes it back, staring up into the sky.

“Ah! Here they are now!” The Master shouts, jumping up and down and spreading his arms wide.

A large spacecraft, with a rounded front which widens into a square main body, bears down on them, lights on its underside shining down on them and illuminating the space with light. It remains up in the air, but four figures suddenly appear on the ground in front of them, striding forwards with stern faces, the collars of their ridiculous outfits glinting in the light of their own ship. Yaz does not know whether she is relieved or worried that the Doctor does not appear to be with them.

“You must be the one they call the Master?” The man Yaz had confronted asks. Yaz assumes this is Tecteun, although she had not asked his name at the time.

“And you must be ‘the one they call’ Tecteun?” The Master mocks Tecteun’s wording back at him, lip curling. He arrogantly strides forwards into the man’s personal space, staring right into his face. Gat primes the gun in her hand, aiming at him, but Tecteun holds up a hand to stop her.

“So, you’re the one.” The Master mutters under his breath, looking Tecteun up and down, taking in the absurd outfit with disdain. “The man who holds the key….”

“I see I hold some kind of infamy in your mind and heart, Master.” Tecteun replies, voice smooth and confident.

“In my _hearts.”_ The Master replies, and if Tecteun is surprised to discover the man is also a Timelord, he does not show it. “And yes, I know you, Tecteun. I have seen your desire and hunger. I saw what you did…” He bares his teeth, but Yaz cannot tell whether he is smiling or snarling. “I’d congratulate you, mastering the power of life and death and moulding it to your own creation…. I really would… except, I think you forgot two very vital things, when you chased after supremacy in the universe.”

“Oh?” Tecteun replies. “And what are they?”

“I think you forgot the child you took it all from. And then, I think you forgot that the race you created from that child might find more loyalty with said child than _you._ ” 

Tecteun’s eyes narrow. “I see. You have seen the truth of our people; you know from whom we descend.”

“Yes.” The Master spits, looking at the ground. “A lineage that should have been told to me. To all of us.”

“But you can understand why it was not?” Tecteun asks, raising his chin. The Master looks up at him from under his fringe.

“You desire control.” He smiles, a laugh leaving his body like shards of glass, slicing his throat on the way. “I desire chaos.”

He snaps his finger, and the door to his Tardis swings open. Yaz tenses, and feels Ryan grab for her sleeve, when a lone Cyberman steps out. Or rather, Cybermaster, for this version has an additional metal plating which seems to mirror and mock the headpieces worn by the Timelords. Yaz looks between the Cybermaster and Tecteun, who’s eyes have widened slightly at the appearance of the cyborg.

“What is that thing?” He says. Behind him Gat and the two additional Timelords have raised their guns. The Master does not seem phased.

“Two can play at your game, Tecteun. Too long you thought that only you held the key to genetic mutation, and, being in possession of the key, would ensure no one else took it, and obtained supremacy. But you should be careful where you leave that key, anyone might be able to sneak in and obtain it. Years of lies and pompous outfits to compensate for a false origin story were not enough in the end, and you look upon your own downfall. I saw the truth in the matrix, and this is your punishment!”

“What is it?” Tecteun says, teeth gritted, anger starting to peak through the cracks. “Tell me!”

“A cyborg constructed using the body of a Timelord. Infinitely regenerating. Infinitely mindless. A puppet for my use. Now who has supremacy?!” He flings his arms wide, stepping backwards towards his creation, like the ringmaster at the circus. Yaz feels like the unwilling audience member who cannot help but watch the show.

“This is sacrilege!” Gat cries. One of the other Timelords steps forward, and the Master cocks his head slightly to the side. The Cybermaster raises its arm, a small gun hidden within the casing becoming visible, and shoots him once, flinging his body to the floor, and then twice, killing him.

Tecteun turns with a swoosh of robes to stare at the fallen Timelord. He waits a moment, then a moment more, before his shoulders fall, and he turns to the Master, who has stood waiting patiently, strangely lenient to Tecteun’s confusion.

“Why isn’t he regenerating?” Tecteun demands of him. The Master frowns, leaning forward and bringing a hand to his ear.

“What?”

“ _Why is he not regenerating?!”_ Tecteun almost shouts.

The Master looks at him as if he is stupid. “Because it’s your own weaponry but better.” He looks over at the humans, catching Yaz’s eye. He rolls his eyes and cocks his head towards Tecteun. “ _Duh.”_ Yaz shakes her head slightly, demonstrating her disapproval. _Don’t do this._ He does, of course, not listen.

Yaz glances around the clearing, trying to make out in the darkness which saturates the land not illuminated by the bright lights of the Timelord space craft any sign of the Doctor, but she cannot see anything. She turns back to the altercation in front of her, heart racing.

“You are obscene! A renegade!” Tecteun spits.

The Master brings a hand to his chest. “ _Thank you.”_ He says flattered.

“Shoot him!” Tecteun orders. The other Timelord raises his gun, and the Master rolls his eyes, signalling to the Cybermaster again. The cyborg shoots the man, and prepares its second shot, but not before he can discharge a well-aimed shot himself. The Cybermaster goes down as it shoots its second round, and the Timelord collapses, dead.

The Master sighs. Gat tenses, waiting for Tecteun to give her the order to shoot, but the man holds his hand up, distracted by the Cybermaster. He watches intently as its body begins to glow gold beneath its metal casing.

“That’s like what came off the Doctor the night we met her.” Ryan murmurs into her ear. “Must be somethin’ to do with regeneration.”

Ryan is right, as a moment later the gold light dims and extinguishes and the Cybermaster rises to its feet, primed once again to fight. Tecteun’s face speaks of his shock and fury. Gat cocks her weapon.

“Let me shoot him.” She says to Tecteun.

“Oh, come on, what have you? A death wish?” The Master asks, seemingly getting impatient. He stares intently at Gat. His lip curls. “No. Just stupid enough to be loyal to a lie.”

“You should be thanking me; it was I that gave you life!” Tecteun berates, voice loud to compensate for the Master’s maniacal mastering of the situation, asserting his presence. “You defy your creator.”

The Master abruptly stops laughing, eyes shadowed, jaw clenched. “There is only one thing I will thank you for, Tecteun.” He says. He twitches strangely, then, body jolting to one side. “You’ve given me a good excuse to kill you.”

Yaz tenses, expecting the Cybermaster to raise its arms and shoot at the two remaining Timelords, but instead the Master bends in two at the waist, and when Yaz turns to him she is startled to see a silver hue to his skin, running across his face and his hands like veins. “I have my own key of creation, now!” He cries, and he seems to be in pain, but he does not mind it. In fact, he seems to revel in it. “And unlike you, I asked for permission first!”

The silver light glows under the Master’s skin, and his body arches back so he stands with arms and legs wide apart, head flung back, in an imitation of regeneration. “You are looking at the Cyberium! The key to all Cyberman knowledge, and how I turn your pompous little face there into a hard metal shell!”

Yaz can see Tecteun’s brow furrow, his head tilt as he takes in what he is seeing, and she licks her lips nervously. She knows she could help, in that moment, but if she does what she is thinking it might end badly for her. Her heart lurches, chest tightening as the seconds tick by and indecision still grips her.

In the end, Ryan must have the same idea, for he suddenly shouts. “Hey! Ya can force it out of him! It needs a live vessel!” Tecteun turns to him, still frowning, as Ryan wildly gestures towards the Master.

“NO!” The Master shouts, and with the flick of a finger, the Cybermaster turns to Ryan, gun raised, ready to shoot-

Yaz grabs Ryan as Jack jumps in front of him, pulling him out of the way as the immortal gets hit directly in the chest. He goes down. The Cybermaster turns to the Master, awaiting orders.

“Kill them you stupid pet!” He shouts, and then suddenly he bends over, screaming in pain as Tecteun advances, focussing intensely on the writhing man in front of him. The Master falls to the ground as the Cyberium seems to rise out of his skin, peeling away from him. The Cybermaster waits by whilst its controller screams in agony. Eventually, Tecteun steps back, letting out a long breath, looking a little weakened, as the Cyberium leaves it vessel and floats above them, fizzing with energy and snaking throughout the air. The Master lies motionless on the ground.

“What did you do?” Gat asks Tecteun as she stands with her gun pointed at the Cyberium.

“Forced him to the end of this regeneration. Not physically, only mentally. I want him to have _this_ pain in his body when we deal with him back on Gallifrey.” Tecteun steps forward, almost reaching out to touch the Cyberium, but he draws his hand back, hesitant, ever the scientist, careful with a new discovery. “So, it seems it needs vessel that technically cannot die… One would have to go through a number of regenerations to contain it, but it might be worth that…”

Yaz is filled with cold dread as she understands what Tecteun intends, and she, Ryan and Graham share a panicked look.

“A vessel that cannot die,” She hears Jack mutter, and she turns to see him raising himself to his feet, dusting off his coat. “I think I’ve got that covered.”

He strides forward, and she calls out to him, but he does not listen.

“Hey!” He shouts, looking at the Cyberium. He smiles cheekily, and Yaz wonders whether he is going to flirt with it. “Wow, that’s beautiful, you know, the way you move, it’s very…. Sexy.”

Oh. He is.

“You want a vessel that can sustain you, yeah? Someone who can never die?” He spreads his arms wide, “You just found your soulmate!”

“That is ridiculous, such power should be given to the Timelords.” Tecteun protests. “We alone will know how to benefit off it properly.”

“Let it make it up its own mind.” Jack says, sounding far more casual than Yaz knows he is probably feeling. Having seen what the Cyberium was doing to the Master, casting his skin in the strange silver light and catalysing painful spasms, the decision to take on the Cyberium deserves much more credit than Jack’s bombastic demeanour reflects. If Yaz was him, she would be scared.

He holds out a hand, reaching up to the Cyberium, which swoops down, within touching distance of his hand. “That’s it…” He mutters.

Tecteun also hold his hand out, and instantly the Cyberium darts towards him, seemingly evaluating him, too. Yaz heart sinks, and she remembers the Doctor’s words all those months ago, in the Villa Diodati. _Timelord magnetism…_

“Think about this for a moment, commander, please.” Gat says, gun lowered, leaning in to talk to her superior. “We do not know the exact effect it will have on your body.” Tecteun looks away from the Cyberium into the far distance. “Would it not be better if I took it? My regenerations are for you. I am loyal and serve you.”

“I have an even better idea.” Tecteun says, eyes still fixed on the darkness. Yaz turns, curious as to what he is seeing, her heart racing and stomach dropping.

The Doctor is striding towards them, head held high. She appears no worse for wear than she had earlier, her longer hair pulled back into a ponytail, leather jacket open to reveal the dark shirt underneath. Yaz wonders where she has been, and how she managed to find them.

“Doctor, there you are. Where have you been?” Tecteun says with a put-upon sigh. The Doctor does not look at him, nor does she reply to his question, but instead at the Cyberium, eyes narrowed. Tecteun follows her line of sight. He smiles.

“Impressive, is it not? It’s called the Cyberium. Something so powerful would be incredibly beneficial to us. But its needs a vessel, and-”

“Yes, I heard the conversation.” The Doctor replies, still looking up at the Cyberium as she strides closer to it, positioned between the Division and Jack and the three humans. The Master still lies unconscious on the floor. Yaz straightens, an idea forming in her head. If she could just…

“Then you know how valuable it is to us, and you know what I require of you.” Tecteun replies, and gestures towards the Cyberium. Finally, the Doctor looks to him. She hesitates. He sighs. “Think of this as part of your repayment for disappearing on us. Come on.” His words are not unkind, but there is a pinch of poison in his tone, and Yaz bristles with anger, distracted by his tone. She is not surprised, from all she has heard, but to see the way he talks to the Doctor, even though it is not _her_ Doctor, but the Doctor nonetheless, it makes her blood boil.

“Doctor, don’t listen, you don’t wanna take that.” Jack says, his own hand still outstretched, but the Cyberium is moving towards the Doctor, compelled by her magnetism.

“ _Quiet.”_ Gat spits, gun pointed at Jack.

They all watch in anticipation, held in stasis, as the Doctor reaches forward to take the Cyberium. The moment it connects with her skin it is absorbed into her, and she stumbles a little to the side, a beaming silver light emitting from her skin. Yaz takes that moment, when all are distracted by the display, to dart to the side, crouching down by a thankfully still unconscious Master. She rifles around in both inside pockets, eventually coming out with the fob watch. She quickly palms it and stands, returning to her place next to Ryan. It feels slightly warm in her palm as they all stand and watch the Doctor absorb the Cyberium, and strangely, it becomes comforting.

Suddenly the Doctor falls to her knees, the silver light diminishing. She is breathing raggedly, and Tecteun kneels by her side, placing a hand on her back. “Well done.” He says, a tinge less comforting than the tone of a parent should be. He puts a hand under her arm and pulls her up, keeping the hand there. Yaz’s eyes narrow. It seems more guarding than supportive. The Doctor is still breathing heavily, brow furrowed, and head lowered, looking at the ground.

“There’s so much power…” She murmurs, and Yaz watches a delighted grin slide onto Tecteun’s face.

“And now we have it, to protect and preserve it, and further the glory of Gallifrey.” Tecteun says.

“No.” The Doctor mutters, tone strained. She looks to be in pain. Yaz’s stomach clenches with worry. The last time she had taken the Cyberium, in the Villa Diodati, she had seemed elated, rather than aggrieved. What is happening? What will happen now the Master is defeated, and the Doctor has the Cyberium, seemingly to further the cause of the Division?

“No?” Tecteun says, the hint of a laugh in his voice.

“No.” The Doctor repeats, and she shrugs off Tecteun’s hand, stumbling a few feet away from him. She still looks pained, but she straightens so she can look him in the face. “I’m not going to do that.”

Gat’s head turns sharply, like a bird’s, in Tecteun’s direction. Tecteun himself is staring at the Doctor silently. Suddenly, a grin breaks out on his face. “Oh. I see. We’re at this point again, are we?”

The Doctor frowns, not saying anything. Tecteun continues. “Please refrain from having your rebellious moment, this really is too sensitive an issue for you to start now.”

“Is that all you think this is?” The Doctor says, incredulous. “A rebellious moment? As if I am a child?” The fingers of her right hand come to her temple, and she winces.

Tecteun sighs, “We do not have time for this. Get in the ship. The sooner we get off this planet the better.”

_No!_ Yaz wants to cry. _Don’t go, Doctor! Keep fighting!_

“No, I will not be going anywhere with you.” The Doctor shakes her head, moving further away from Tecteun. Gat looks to Tecteun again, obviously disturbed by the Doctor’s lack of submission. Tecteun raises his hand to tell her to back down, staring at the Doctor, evaluating her, thinking how best to calm her down and get her on the ship.

“Doctor. Get on the ship.” Tecteun says, a hint of warning in his voice. “Now is not the time.”

Yaz shakes her head, and she hears Ryan scoff next to her. Tecteun is blind both to the Doctor’s words and to the pain the Doctor seems to be in and is instead treating her like a petulant child.

“I’m not going to take this anymore.” The Doctor shakes her head. “You can’t treat me like this anymore. It’s wrong.”

Tecteun is getting more and more impatient, the stoic veneer washing away. “Who are you to say what is wrong and what is not? Who else have you got? How dare you defy me like this!”

He makes a grab for the Doctor, and Yaz has to prevent herself from darting forward before he grabs her, but the Doctor pushes herself away with a cry, which causes her to fall to the ground.

“The Cyberium…” She mutters, eyes far away and distant, listening to something no one else can. “It doesn’t like its host….” She cries out, eyes snapping shut, head lowered. “It recognises that the mind does not fit the body…”

Tecteun freezes in his movement of reaching for the Doctor again. “What?”

The Doctor manages to bring a grin to her face, empty and tired. She looks up at Tecteun, and despite the fact that she is on the floor and Tecteun towers over her, the Doctor seems to have the upper hand. For the moment, at least. “What? You didn’t think I’d realise?”

Tecteun turns to the four humans stood, like an audience, watching the scene play out in front of them. “You told her?”

Gat’s gun is immediately trailed on them, but Yaz does not hold her hands up passively in surrender. She keeps them by her sides, fingers still clenched around the fob watch.

“Maybe I subconsciously made my way to them…” The Doctor murmurs, kneeling upright now but still tense with pain. “Maybe it was all a coincidence, but I realise something now, having fallen into their path…”

“And what is that?” Tecteun says, taking a step backwards to keep himself in check against the irritation and anger he is feeling.

“You care about me, but not in the way you should. You care about what I can do to help you, but you _never_ want to help _me._ I must have been so different to the woman they are used to, but despite that they still helped _me._ ” She waves a hand in the direction of the four humans. _“_ It took some misunderstandings and quite a lot of aggression on my part, but they never gave up. That’s why they’re here, risking their lives. They care about me.” She smiles then, sadly, and Yaz heart clenches. “Well, not _me,_ but the person I hope I will become one day. My own person.”

Tecteun’s nostrils are flaring, and even though he is brightly lit by the light from his own space craft, his face seems shadowed, carved out by the Doctor’s words into grief and rage. “I have given you everything. I saved you. You were alone, I could have left you there, but I took you and raised you and _this_ is how you repay me? How _dare_ you say I do not care about you? I’ve dedicated my life to _you._ To understanding _you_.”

The Doctor scrambles to her feet, finding a moment of calm within the maelstrom. Her shoulders are hunched, but she holds her head high. “And along the way you forgot me. You became so wrapped up in the idea of me you forgot the person underneath it all. I became something for you to use. So much in fact you’ve created _this._ ” She gestures to herself, and Yaz can see the effort it is taking for her to remain standing. She sees the Doctor glance her way, and Yaz freezes, catching something in her eye. The Doctor looks down briefly at Yaz’s hand before turning back to Tecteun. Yaz runs her thumb over the fob watch. The Doctor cries out, breaths turning to pants as she says, “But I can’t sustain this much longer, the Cyberium won’t accept it. And neither will I.”

Tecteun catches onto her meaning, and he gestures frantically at Gat, pointing at the Master. Gat strides towards him, glaring and pointing her gun at the four humans as she does. The Doctor catches Yaz’s eye again, and she winks. 

Yaz understands what she is asking.

There is a moment, then, when time seems to slow down, and Yaz can only see the Doctor, and the Doctor looking back at her. Yaz can see the pain in her eyes, but also, strangely, relief. She smiles at Yaz, and she mouths ‘thank you.’ and there, in that moment, with all the walls Tecteun tried to construct around the Doctor, all he tried to mould her in his image, there is _the_ Doctor underneath it all, right in front of her, smiling in the face of danger, willingly throwing herself into the fray. Yaz smiles, her mouth wobbling as tears catch at her eyelashes, and nods wordlessly back.

“The fob watch, it’s not on him!” Gat cries, turning to Tecteun. She rises, her back to the four humans, and Yaz nudges Ryan, pointing to Gat’s gun.

‘Get the gun off her.’ She mouths. Ryan nods, and then he turns to Jack and Graham, mouthing something to them.

“What?!” Tecteun says, sudden panic overcoming him. He still stands close to the Doctor, as if to grab her at any time. “Then where…” His eyes trail from the Master to Yaz. She raises her chin, catching his eye, mentally squaring up and challenging him. _You are not getting the best of me this time._

“You.” He whispers, and he points at Yaz, stepping forward.

“RYAN, NOW!” Yaz shouts, and in one movement, impressively slick for Ryan, he grabs the gun out of Gat’s hand. Jack and Graham descend on Gat, holding her in a grip so tight she can barely scramble against them, although she shouts and demands they release her. Jack works quickly to check there are no other weapons on her person. Ryan, in the meantime, has the gun trained on Tecteun, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

“Yaz!” The Doctor shouts. Yaz turns, and the Doctor nods, holding her hands out. With no time to second guess her aim, Yaz throws the fob watch in the air. It seems to carry the weight of the last few days as it sails through the air, the cargo within a precious load. Finally, it is being delivered to its owner.

The Doctor catches the fob watch, stumbling backwards as she clasps it to her chest. She smiles, letting out a triumphant cry. Tecteun freezes, face the picture of anguish.

“Doctor, don’t.” He warns, but the Doctor does not pay him any mind, staring down at the fob watch almost reverently. “Don’t you want to live?”

The Doctor looks at him, a small smile on her face. “Of course, I do. And I know I will, one day. Properly live. And see amazing things and meet amazing people. And I will choose how I do that.” She laughs then, a small sound which is partway happy and partway sad. “Actually, I choose to do that now. My life, my choice.”

And before Tecteun can even think about leaping forwards and grabbing the fob watch out of her hands, she holds it up, a small smile on her face, and opens it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Let me know what you think!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr at walker-lister
> 
> See you next time!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the wait, I'm so hoping I've got this right... I'm just going to post it before I overthink it too much!

Yaz reels back, covering her eyes against the golden light which streams from the fob watch and into the Doctor. It is incredibly luminous, blazing with intensity, and it seems to sing out as it is finally released, a tune which sounds very familiar, like a warm hand on Yaz’s shoulder. _The Doctor_.

She does not know how long it lasts, only that her eyes begin to hurt from being screwed up as the bright light turns the insides of her eyelids red. Eventually the glow dies down and she feels safe enough to open her eyes and uncover her face. Her mouth is dry, her heart thumping, and she turns to look at the Doctor.

The woman’s head is tipped back, arms thrown out to her sides. Yaz can see the entrails of the golden glow simmering on top of her skin, and the Doctor suddenly gasps, head tipping forward so that Yaz can see that the gold flickers in her eyes, too, like flames. It is strange, and ethereal, and incredibly beautiful.

Yaz’s moment of dazed fixation is broken, however, when the light dies, the Doctor letting out a loud groan before she collapses to the floor.

“No!” Yaz hears herself cry, moving across the clearing before she can even think about what she is doing. _Something has gone wrong, something is wrong… You’ve lost her…_ “No!” She whispers and falls to her knees by the Doctor’s side, putting one hand to her face, cupping her cheek, whilst the other reaches for the Doctor’s wrist, fumbling to take her pulse.

There. Two heartbeats. Slow and steady.

“Doctor, can you hear me?” She calls, tapping her cheek lightly, but the Doctor does not react, eyes remained closed, face still and peaceful.

“Step away from her.” A cold voice says, and Yaz glares up at Tecteun, who stands over her, brow furrowed, face lined.

“Not a chance.” Yaz says, releasing the Doctor and standing over her, blocking her from Tecteun.

Tecteun rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. “Fine.”

Yaz feels a strange pain then, horribly uncomfortable, and yet difficult to describe. She supposes it is like her brain is being prodded with a hot poker. She cries out, eyes clamping shut as she grits her teeth against the sensation. It is Tecteun, obviously trying to use his psychic abilities to force Yaz to relent, to get her out the way. Possibly even kill her, if the growing sensation, which seems to be burning her brain, is anything to go by. But Yaz has had enough of his Timelord games, and she owes it to the other Doctor, who had sacrificed herself, having listened to Yaz’s words, to stop Tecteun from getting at what she had sacrificed herself for.

Yaz can feel a scream building in her as the pressure in her head increases, but she remains firm, not giving in. It is getting harder, though, and she is scared she might not be able to hold on for much longer…

“Stop that. Right now. You don’t want me to use this.” A voice says, and Yaz cannot have heard right, the pain must have confused her, because that certainly can’t be…

Suddenly, the pain and the pressure are gone, and Yaz gasps, placing her hands on her knees for a moment to catch her breath. Tears swell in her eyes when she opens them, and she blinks them away, chest heaving. She has to get up, she has to see what has happened, whether she heard right…

The Master is stood before her, his shrink ray aimed at Tecteun, jaw clenched, hair falling in lank strands in front of his face, eyes wild. Tecteun glares at him, but backs off under the threat of the Master’s weapon. Yaz has no idea when he regained consciousness, or why he seems to be protecting her, but he has just saved her from an unfortunate end, and Yaz thinks it might be best not to question that at that particular moment.

Ryan, just to be careful, has the confiscated gun levelled at the Master. He seems to be helping them, on their side, so to speak, but that does not mean Ryan trusts the man not to suddenly turn on them.

The Master looks to Yaz, eyes flickering quickly between her and Tecteun. “Are you _going_ to help her?” He asks with sharp sarcasm, and Yaz pauses for only a moment before she throws herself down at the Doctor’s side again.

“Doctor?” She calls, and this time, with a bit of prompting from Yaz in the form of a slight tap on the cheek, the Doctor stirs, eyes blinking lazily open. Yaz’s heart flutters, palpitating slightly, and her breath gets caught in her throat as she watches the Doctor’s eyes look around, gaze sharpening as she awakes fully, until they finally land on Yaz. The Doctor blinks once, twice, and then her eyes widen, that small crease on her brow appearing.

“Yaz?”

_Oh my god it’s her, it’s actually her._

“Doctor!” She cries, and suddenly it hits her that she is properly seeing her for the first time in months, and she thought she was dead but now she is here, and it worked, and they might have a chance to get out of this alive and with the Doctor, and…

Yaz flings her arms around the Doctor’s shoulders, enfolding the other woman in a tight hug. The Doctor makes a sound of surprise but sits herself up so that she can properly draw her own arms around Yaz’s body, their pressure reassuring and solid. _She is here, she is really here…_

“I missed you.” Yaz whispers her admittance in the Doctor’s ear, and the Doctor tightens her grip.

“I missed you too.” She admits, and then in classic Doctor style, she pulls back before anything deeper can be said. Yaz pulls back, kneeling at her side, watching the Doctor carefully. “Wh-what is happening? I’ve got a major head wonk and-ah!” She suddenly brings a hand up her temple, wincing in pain. She blinks rapidly, eyes glazing over as she listens to something only she can hear. Yaz wonders if it is the Cyberium, and she bites her lip in worry. “Oh.” The Doctor says. She takes a deep breath, eyes blinking back into awareness. She looks around, past Yaz, to where the Master stands with his weapon raised at Tecteun, and then to Ryan, gun pointed at the Master, and Graham and Jack, who still hold Gat between them. “Oh.” Her voice drops an octave, face very still. “I remember now.”

She stands, with Yaz’s help, wobbling slightly when she regains her footing. She straightens, pushing her shoulders back, the action just not the same without her iconic coat. Yaz steps back as the Doctor seems to evaluate Tecteun, who is watching her carefully.

“Well,” The Doctor says, “I say _I_ remember, but that’s not strictly true, is it? No, it wasn’t _me.”_ She points at her chest with a finger, and then very slowly she draws it up her body until it comes to rest at her temple. “Nor was it _her,_ because she was just a facsimile to you, wasn’t she? An upload you could bring out at times of need. Well, luckily for me that upload has left some data, in here, and I remember _everything._ And I can _feel_ everything she felt, too.” She looks down at herself for a moment, and her nose scrunches up as she takes in her dark outfit. “Now, she might have strange taste in clothing, but she holds the very same drive I’ve always held.” She looks up at Tecteun, face serious again, with a cold intensity which makes Yaz’s stomach clench. It reminds her of their last days together, as she has come to call that time with the Cyberium and the Lone Cyberman, and it stirs memories of desolation and hopelessness. She watches the Doctor and prays that it will not go that way this time.

“I wouldn’t call it a drive.” Tecteun scoffs. “More an innate sense of not belonging. I suppose you knew, instinctively, you were not where you were supposed to be. But that didn’t stop me, did it? Even now you feel the effects of my actions.”

Yaz is beyond confused, but she keeps watching the Doctor and trusts in her.

The Doctor scoffs. “But unlike those days I cannot remember, your scheme to use me as you have has gown awry. For all intents and purposes, _I_ shouldn’t be here now! But she broke out from your control. Don’t you see? That makes me so much stronger than you; even a facsimile of myself listened to her hearts and mind and decided she would not be constrained by you.”

Tecteun’s nostrils flare with anger, and he steps forward, but the Master shoves his shrink ray further into his face. The other man glances to the Doctor, his wild gaze impatient. “Do it, Doctor. Punish him. Make him pay!”

The Doctor looks from Tecteun to the Master, and then back again, face still, expression controlled.

“Think of it all, all I showed you, all he’s put you through, both then and now.” The Master continues to goad, and Yaz can fill the air becoming charged with a dangerous electricity. “The abuse he has put you through, Doctor…. It is unforgivable.”

“Give me the Cyberium, Doctor!” Tecteun says, voice booming in the clearing. “Such a mass of information should be preserved by those who deserve to keep such information.”

“Right.” The Doctor says, straightening, wincing just slightly. Yaz supposes it must be quite uncomfortable to come back to yourself when you are being occupied by an AI. “And I suppose you think that’s you?”

“No!” The Master shouts, pointing his weapon even further in Tecteun’s face. “She will not give it up to you, you, the great pretender!” He turns to the Doctor. “Use it, Doctor! Use the Cyberium on them! You have seen what I have created, you could do the same for yourself, have supremacy for yourself!”

“You know I can’t do that.” She says to the Master, suddenly weary in the face of the other man’s outrage. “And I think you know I wouldn’t.”

The Master breathes heavily, and Yaz watches something strange, something unknowable and complicated, unable to be expressed through any one-word pass between her and the Master. _Old friends…_ The Master, instead of being furious, as Yaz might have expected, seems to stiffen with something which looks strangely like pride, as if what he had just said was a test…

“You cannot resist us forever, Doctor!” Tecteun says, butting his way back into the conversation and breaking the spell between the two Timelords. “We are inevitable.”

Yaz startles, the Lone Cyberman’s words in the Villa Diodati slipping into the front of her mind. _I am inevitable…_

The Doctor looks from Tecteun to the Master, expression sad, full of the regret of thousands of years. “No. You are not.”

Yaz thinks of Gallifrey, turned to molten ash and rubble and heat. The Division are the last entrails of a destroyed civilisation, and she feel weighed down by the pointlessness of it all, how the Division and Tecteun have fought for so long and meddled with their lives in so many ways and all for _nothing…_

The younger Doctor, she had been a ghost of their creation, a whisper in the matrix, and the Division stood here, they too are ghosts…

Yaz begins to understand how lonely it must be for the Doctor, to live so long, and, as Yaz understands it, far longer than even Yaz had imagined could be summed up in ‘thousands of years’.

The Doctor turns, looking between the Master and Tecteun once more before she walks away from them, approaching the Cybermaster, who stands obediently waiting for its next order. She considers it, eyes roaming over the result of a creation born from hate and misuse. She looks small in front of it, the Cyborg towering over her, but she is completely in control of it, for it is she who possesses the Cyberium, and it awaits her command.

The Doctor brings a hand up to its metal face, placing them almost reverently against the metallic casing. From what Yaz can see of her face, she looks tired, and so incredibly sad. “I’m sorry.” The Doctor whispers.

“Doctor…” The Master warns, but before he can so much as move, the Doctor presses her fingers harder against the Cybermaster’s casing, eyes clamping shut. Yaz sees the eel-like energy of the Cyberium thrum under her skin, and she must be directing its power to her fingers, and before Yaz knows it there is the spark of electrical energy which travels from the Doctor and to the Cybermaster, and it collapses to the floor, metallic limbs clattering.

“NO!” The Master screams, and he turns his weapon from Tecteun to the Doctor, pointing it at her.

“You know I had to do it.” The Doctor says, not at all bothered by the Master’s threat. She shrugs. “I couldn’t let your misuse continue. You cannot keep doing this.” She looks around her, at the clearing that surrounds them, the planet they stand on. “Planet Earth, seriously? You think I wouldn’t save it once more? You think I wouldn’t always do my best to save humanity?”

The Master points his gun at Yaz, and she tenses, looking to the Doctor, seriously hoping she doesn’t anger the man further. “I’ll take one of your precious pets.” He warns.

The Doctor, to her credit, keeps her face incredibly still and placid. Yaz notes the slightest twitch in her cheek. “I don’t think you really want to. I don’t think it’s me you really want to hurt at all. It might have been in the past, but it isn’t now.”

The Master considers her, a smile flashing across his face like a bolt of lightning. There it is again, that strange energy between them. Yaz understands what she means, the Master’s plan to take out humanity had been an addition to his original vengeance on the Division. If he had truly wanted to kill them, he would have done it by now. She doubts she will ever be able to understand the relationship which shifts, like quicksand, but has a solid core, like that of the earth, between the two beings.

Ever so slowly, under the Doctor’s watchful gaze, the Master lowers his weapon, only raising it again when it is pointing assuredly at Tecteun, who watches the two of them, eyes narrowed.

“There will be no more creations born of manipulation.” The Doctor says coldly, firmly. “Twice is more than enough.”

“Can you blame me!” Tecteun demands, although Yaz knows he is not seeking validation, just affirmation. “I had the code to eternal life right there in front of me! I could be a god. Sacrificing the life of a child was not a heavy sacrifice to make.”

“It wasn’t just the life of one child, though.” The Doctor says calmly, striding forwards so she is stood near Tecteun once again. “You took _so many_ of my lives, in so many ways. You experimented on me, used lifetimes as test runs, and even when you’d cracked it, and supremacy was yours, you kept me chained, wiping my memory again and again, uploading me to the matric like a _weapon._ And even now, you see it fit to interfere, even when I should have been far away from you, with the freedom I was owed, the freedom I always wanted _._ ” She shakes her head, laughing slightly, an empty and bitter sound. If Yaz had been expecting the Doctor’s anger to be ferocious and loud, like the crackling of lightning, it is instead more subdued, yet as dangerous, the ominous rolling of thunder which warns of oncoming power, controlled and complete. 

“But you stupidly forget that I have become so much more since I was out from under your thumb. I have done things that would make you shake in your boots, things I am ashamed of, things I wish I never had to do, and there is so much I could do to you now. If there is some sort of justice determinator of what is right or wrong in the universe some might say that I would be right to do something to you, something horrific. But I have tried to be _so much better._ This face,” She gestures to herself. “This was a born of hope and a promise to always be kind. It’s been hard, and I certainly haven’t been kind, recently,” She swallows, looking slightly sideways at Yaz. The months of moody silences and mardy moods sit between them. “But I am trying so hard to be better, after all I have learned about myself, after I realised there is infinite possibilities for me. And so now… I’m going to make you do something you never let me do.”

“And that is?” Tecteun says, rage and terror and regret all bowled into one curled lip, wide eyed stare.

The Doctor leans forward, a figure of immense power and immense repentance. “I am going to make you run.” She turns, grabbing the gun from Ryan’s hands and throwing it far away. “Run.” She says, and grabs at Gat, pulling out of Graham and Jack’s grip, who let the woman go, and pushing her towards Tecteun. “Run, and don’t look back. In fact, don’t look forwards, either. Don’t interfere with timelines like this again, it is incredibly dangerous.”

She stops moving, stood with her back straight, shoulders back, head held high. _The Doctor._ “And don’t come looking for me again. Make peace with the fact that I will always run from you, in the end.”

Yaz thinks of Ruth, at how their timeline has crossed with hers. Two Doctors on the run.

Tecteun holds her gaze for a long time, so long in fact Yaz can feel the Master getting impatient and cannot contain a wince as she imagines him using the weapon. She is no expert, but were he to actually shoot Tecteun, and kill him, she imagines it would do all sorts of things to time streams and paradoxes, and all the other things the Doctor is usually so keen to warn them about.

Eventually, Tecteun backs down, and he gestures to Gat, who, with one last cold look at them all and a press of a button vanishes into thin air. he stands in front of the Doctor, looking down at her, and with both their backs ramrod straight there the strange vague _similarity_ between them. No, Yaz thinks, that is just coincidence. They do not wield their power the same.

“If it is of any consolation, my intention at first was not to use you. It was to save you.” Tecteun says, the crafted pomposity which normally soaks every word absent. Instead, he speaks the plain truth.

The Doctor offers him nothing, her face still, but her voice, when she speaks, is hoarse, ridden with a million emotions. “If only good intentions were enough.”

Tecteun hums, and nods, and then, with one final glance at her, he disappears as Gat had done, taking the two Timelord bodies on the floor with him. Yaz does not doubt the man is probably seething with anger and rage, but, for perhaps the first time in his life, he had listened to his child. Above them, there is the unnatural sound of the ship engine’s firing up, and the light is suddenly gone from the clearing, the gentle glow of Sheffield visible once again in the distance, and Yaz blinks to clear here eyes of the fading bright lights on her retinas. 

The Master lowers his shrink ray, tucking it into his pocket. He wipes his hands with a casualness which does not fit the occasion. “Not how I’d have done it.”

“Yes, but your way would have created a massive paradox.” The Doctor replies, dead pan. “You shouldn’t have done that. You could have ripped the universe in two.”

“I know.” The Master replies, shrugging.

The Doctor looks at him carefully. “Why, then?”

The Master leans into her space, eyes flicking from her lips to her eyes. His voice is dangerous, his words a pane of glass that might shatter at any moment. Fragile. “Because I could.”

The Doctor looks back at him, her gaze sorrowful. “Stop it, will you?” She asks, voice barely above a whisper. “Just, for a while, stop it?”

The Master licks his lips with his tongue, hands grasping at the lapels of his jacket. “I can’t promise anything, you know that. Who knows _when_ we’ll meet again?”

“But you’ll try, at least.” The Doctor says, the tiniest hint of a warning in her tone.

The Master smiles, tongue running over his teeth as he looks at her. Eventually, he nods. The Doctor steps back, satisfied. “There is one more favour I want to ask of you, but first…” She turns from the Master and to Yaz, Graham, Ryan and Jack, stood there as the audience to what Yaz’s tired brain can only call ‘family drama’.

“Fam.” The Doctor says the word like it is reverent, precious, as she properly looks at them for the first time in _months._ Months filled with grief and question, _so many questions,_ and now, Yaz realises, they might be answered, she might finally understand all that has happened, but for now…

Yaz pulls her into a ferocious hug once again, a proper one, with both women standing. Graham and Ryan join, and they envelop the Doctor in their embrace, communicating their relief and joy and their _love._

The fam. Back together again.

"Good to see ya’ Doctor!” Jack cries once the four of them have broken apart, Ryan keeping a hand on Yaz’s shoulder and shaking it slightly as if to say _we’ve done it!_ The Doctor turns to Jack, smile marred with a slight frown. 

“What are _you_ doing here?” She asks, curious.

“Heard word of you whilst on the Silas bounty hunter ship.” Jack explains, and the Doctor quirks an eyebrow in the Master’s direction. The man simply folds his arms, looking impatient at the affair playing out in front of him. “Followed you here, got shot in the chest for my efforts.”

“By _who?_ ” The Doctor asks, shocked.

Jack opens his mouth to answer, and then winces, giving the Doctor a pointed look. She visibly pales. “ _Me?!”_

“…Yeah.” Jack confirms. “But don’t feel bad. No harm done. I understand why you did it.”

“Oh, Jack.” The Doctor says, crestfallen. “I am _so_ sorry.”

“I know.” Jack says, smiling. He steps towards. “And Doctor, can I just say….” He looks her up and down, the Doctor following his gaze, still unsure. “ _Great_ job this time around.”

She pauses, not understanding, but then she catches that familiar cheeky look in Jack’s eye, and she sighs in a put upon manner. “Oh, do you _ever_ stop?”

“Never!” Jack cries, and before she can react, he pulls her into a bone crushing hug. Yaz laughs as the Doctor’s feet momentarily lift from the ground. When Jack releases her, he brings his hands to her shoulders, looking at her with sincere joy. “It really is good to see you, Doctor.”

“And you, Jack.” The Doctor replies, equally sincere.

“Look, are you going to ask me for that favour, or can I go?” The Master interrupts, gesturing with his thumb towards his Tardis.

“Ah, yes, right…” The Doctor says, remembering herself. She goes to brush off her clothing, obviously expecting her usual coat, but holds her hands away from her body as she takes in her new clothes properly. “Eugh. Horrendous.”

“I dunno Doc, that leather jacket don’t half suit ya.” Graham says.

“Yeah, man, and the hair looks pretty good.” Ryan says. Yaz has to admit, on _her_ Doctor, the long hair is a good different.

“Hair?” The Doctor says frowning, bringing a hand to her head. She feels her hair, pulled back in a now messy ponytail. Her eyebrows rise. “Oh.”

“ _Doctor.”_ The Master says through gritted teeth, his impatience almost tangible.

“Listen, fam, I’ve just gotta pop and… well, fetch the Tardis, poor girl.” The Doctor explains. As they go to speak, she holds up a hand. “It won’t take a moment. I’ll meet you back at Graham’s, yeah?”

They are reluctant to leave her, Yaz filled with the terror that they might not see her again for months, but there is not much they can do- the Doctor _needs_ the Tardis.

“Won’t be long.” She says, and then turns to Jack. “And you, Captain, you stay put for a bit. I have a favour to ask.”

Jack nods, giving her a small salute. “Aye, aye.”

The Doctor tuts. “ _Please_ don’t.”

“Right, that’s it, we’re going.” The Master says, striding past them all and fumbling for the key to his Tardis. “Before I lose my patience and change my mind.”

The Doctor shoots them an apologetic smile. “See you in a bit, fam.”

“Doc, when you return, we’ll get some answers, right?” Graham asks, and the Doctor must understand the weight of what he means, that their questions will not simply revolve around the events of the last few days, but of long before that, too.

She hesitates, slightly, and Yaz feels her heart sink, and desperately hopes the Doctor does not sink into the same placation she has always used before, a cheery smile to cover hidden feelings. However, the Doctor clears her throat, and looks at them all, properly, _sincerely._ “Yeah. I promise.”

Graham nods, satisfied. The Doctor smiles at them all and makes to turn and follow the Master into his Tardis, but Yaz calls out before she can disappear from view. “See you in a bit!”

The Doctor smiles at her, nodding. “Yeah.” She says, and then slips herself into the Master’s Tardis, the door clicking shut behind her. And then, soon after, it is fading and fading until it vanishes. 

The four of them stand there for a while, simply breathing in the night air, the sudden silence almost painful on Yaz’s ears. She feels overjoyed, and yet so worried to have bid the Doctor farewell, if only briefly, once again.

“She’ll be back, Yaz.” Graham says, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and she gives him a small smile.

“Err,” Ryan says, “What are we meant to do with that?” He points at the Cybermaster, its body lying on the ground, empty eyeholes unseeing.

“Huh.” Jack says. 

* * *

Coordinates punched in, the Doctor and the Master stand on either side of his Tardis’s console, staring at each other.

“Those better be the right coordinates, and not another bounty hunter ship.” She warns, giving him a long, disapproving look.

The Master smirks, looking up at her from his bowed over position at the console. “Pinky promise, love.” At her continued cold stare, he shrugs. “Are you really that mad at me for that? Come on, it was a bit of fun.”

The Doctor huffs, looking away. “You know we have different definitions of ‘fun.’”

“Fine.” The Master says, throwing his hands in the air. “But I’m not apologising.”

The Doctor nods seemingly satisfied. She goes to put her hands in her trousers pockets, but fumbles when she realises her clothing is not her usual ware. She pulls a face; why are these trousers so _tight?_

“So, what are you going to do now?” She asks, settling for clasping her hands in front of her.

The Master shrugs. “Oh, I don’t know, there must be some small dissent somewhere I can stir up into full blown trouble.”

“Don’t you get tired?” The Doctor asks. “Of all that chaos.”

“I can’t escape it.” The Master replies, straightening and taking a few slow steps towards her. “Like I don’t think you’ll ever escape the guilt you feel.”

They stare at each other for a long time, and there is the usual hostility, the usual competition, but they fall to the edges as the two really consider each other, no grand schemes or hidden secrets between them, interrupting a genuine interaction.

Finally, the Doctor speaks. “I think you could escape it, if you tried.”

The Master sighs, looking away for a moment, eyes fixing on nothing in particular. His expression is sad, mournful, when he looks back to the Doctor. “Not this time around.” He confesses.

The Doctor sighs, head titling as she considers him, seeing the manic panic which rests in those eyes, always simmering under the surface. Her own hearts ache for him. For both of them.

The Master’s Tardis lands with a resounding _thump_ and the two are broken from their intimacy, the Doctor stepping away towards the doors. They do not bother with goodbyes.

“You know,” The Master says, when her first foot is out of the door. “I was going to open that fob watch and put you in the body inside that Cybermaster. I wanted you to be conscious of what you were doing, but unable to stop it.”

“Then why didn’t you?” The Doctor asks, raising her eyebrows.

The Master does not answer, simply raises his brows back at her, eyes flicking from her to the outside world beyond on, as if to say ‘go now, before I say too much.’

She sighs, and with one last look back at him, steps out of his Tardis. She does not turn when she hears it disappearing behind her.

The Doctor is alone for the first time since the Judoon prison.

She wanders across the barren planet, knowing that she is not far, kicking at stones and rocks and trying very hard not to think much about anything in particular.

When the Tardis comes into sight, she breaks out into a beaming smile, practically jogging towards her.

“Ah, hello, mate. Again.” She says, placing a hand ever so gently against the wood. The Tardis lights up, a beam to match the Doctor’s own smile, coming alive under her fingers. “This time, I plan on staying.”

She slips inside, the console room lit in the familiar glow. It surrounds her, comforts her, and the Doctor suddenly finds herself feeling so exhausted, leaning forwards against the console, letting out a heavy breath.

She needs to rest.

There are just few more things to tie up, as ever.

She hesitates, as she plots in the coordinates, wondering whether she should-

It is probably for nothing, but she cannot help herself. She closes her eyes, routing around in her head for any sign, any lingering strand of them, but no. Of course not; they were gone the moment she returned from that fob watch. She is alone.

She can feel the Tardis, trying to comfort her, and she leans into it, letting her ghost monument share her pain for a few moments.

“I owe them an explanation.” She murmurs to her, swallowing heavily as tears threaten to follow her words. “I’m not sure I can give them what they’re after.”

The Tardis reassures her with a calming hum. _They just want to understand._

“I know.” The Doctor murmurs. “But I think making them understand will change things.”

_It will make things better._

“Will it?” She questions. “Some of the things they’ll learn, I-”

_Trust them, Doctor._ The Tardis tells her. _Trust me._

The Doctor sighs, and her hand creeps to the lever. It feels warm under her touch.

“Fine.”

She pulls down the lever and heads for Sheffield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! There is one more chapter to go, and I've written a lot of it already so I'll have it up probably tomorrow or the day after! 
> 
> Sending my love to everyone during this time xx


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final chapter! I can't believe it! I hope you enjoy!

Yaz's foot bounces nervously against the ground, fingers tapping against her thigh. Graham is fiddling with something in the kitchen. Ryan and Jack are in the garden shed, carefully observing the body of the Cybermaster where they had stored it, caught between fascination and disgust.

Yaz is gone well past exhaustion. They all are. It is fighting with her curiosity to finally get to speak with the Doctor, to ask the Doctor questions.

Yaz hopes she turns up soon.

As if on cue, a familiar and sorely missed wheezing sound begins to reverberate around the room. Graham’s come rushing in, face draining almost comically.

“Oh no.”

The Tardis materialises, and Yaz lets out a sigh of relief on Graham’s behalf that the Doctor manages to avoid any furniture this time. A door swings open, and her head pops out.

“Ah. Perfect!” She says cheerily, stepping out of the Tardis. Jack and Ryan’s footsteps can be heard clattering in from the back garden, and the two come bustling in, Jack looking the Tardis up and down. He whistles.

“Now that’s a site for sore eyes.” He proclaims.

“I’ll give you a lift once we’re done here.” The Doctor tells him. She is still dressed in her unusual, for her, attire, which reassures Yaz that the Doctor really had only just picked up the Tardis, and had not strayed elsewhere.

“Where did the Master go?” She asks her.

The Doctor shrugs. “Off to cause trouble elsewhere. Who knows, really.”

Yaz nods, and she does not have time to push further as the Doctor is wincing, gesturing to Jack.

“Jack.” She says. “I need to ask a favour. A big favour.”

Jack nods solemnly. “I think I already know what you’re gonna ask.”

The Doctor laughs, although it comes out more a grimace. “Find a safe place for it, will ya? Don’t let it fall into the wrong hands.”

Jack nods, and he confidently holds his hand out. “I can take it, Doctor.”

She nods back, and she places his hand in his, in a strange hand shake.

The three humans watch as the Cyberium rises from the Doctor’s skin, being extracted from her as it had been from the Master. Although this time, the Doctor conducts the surgery herself, and she concentrates hard, face screwed up in immense pain, breathing fast and ragged. Yaz watches on, feeling sick with concern, begging for it to be over as soon as it has begun.

Jack takes the Cyberium with a loud grunt, watching as it soaks into his skin, works its way into his veins. It is not a death sentence for him, but it still must be incredibly unpleasant. 

The Doctor sighs, sagging slightly, a hand reaching for the Tardis to support her. “Ah.” She cries. “That’s better.”

“Let me tell ya, I’ve had a lot of things inside me, and _this-”_ Jack begins, but the Doctor holds up a shaking hand to interrupt him.

“I don’t wanna know.” She says, and then cuts herself off by crying out again. Yaz darts towards her in concern, putting a hand on her arm. “Fam.” She says. “I promised you I’d answer your questions, and I will, but, if you don’t mind…”

Yaz shoots a panicked glance at Ryan as she realises what is about to happen, and he darts over, positioning himself under the Doctor’s arm which supports herself on the Tardis. Yaz slings the Doctor’s other arm over her shoulder.

“I just need a power nap.” The Doctor says, and then she sags completely as she falls unconscious, Ryan and Yaz working hard to support her weight.

“Sofa?” Ryan asks Yaz, and she nods.

“Sofa.”

They lower her down carefully, Yaz making sure she is positioned comfortably before they both straighten, all four of them looking between themselves. Jack is stretching his fingers out experimentally, the Cyberium a slight glean under his skin.

“Now what?” Ryan asks.

“Well, I don’t know about you lot, but if the Doc’s gonna sleep it off, so am I.” Graham says. “I can always kip in me armchair, if we need someone to watch over her?”

“You got to bed, Graham.” Jack interjects, and then he looks to Ryan and Yaz, as well. “And you two, too. I can watch over her.”

Yaz is reluctant to leave, exhaustion causing a stupid worry that something might happen to the Doctor in the time that she is sleeping, but Jack urges her to go, and so she does, with one last lingering glance back at the Doctor, sleeping peacefully on the sofa.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow she will have the answers she has been looking for for eight long months. 

* * *

When Yaz wakes the next morning, it takes her a moment to realise where she is, and when she does, the memories of the night before slamming back into her, she hurriedly throws back the sheets of the bed in Graham’s spare room and shoves her trainers back onto her feet, making her way down the stairs, slightly wary that if she is not careful she might trip and fall in her haste.

When she rounds the corner to the front room, her heart lurches when she spots the Doctor is no longer on the sofa, but the Tardis is still there and she can hear murmured conversation. She steps further into the room, and that’s when she spots her, sat at the table, talking with Jack, cup of tea in her hands.

Yaz’s heart stops.

She has changed, back in her usual attire, and Yaz figures she must have spares hidden somewhere on the Tardis. Yellow braces clip to blue trousers, a white top underneath a shirt emblazoned with a rainbow stripe. Her coat is slung over the back of the chair. Her hair is down, now, and it is longer than Yaz has seen it, brushing her shoulders, but she likes it. She wants to run her hand through it.

“-I’m not sure what they did with it.” The Doctor is saying, “I were dead proud of it an all. Made it myself from spoons.”

“Wait.” Jack says, rummaging around in his pocket. “Is it this?”

He pulls out the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver, and her face lights up like a child’s on Christmas Day.

“Where did you get _that?”_ She asks as she takes it from him, running her fingers over it affectionately.

“I found it on the Silas bounty hunter ship.” Jack explains. “Well, I say found…”

The Doctor gives him a wide smile, genuinely chuffed as she reaches around to her coat and slips the sonic in her pocket.

Yaz decides this is as good a time as any to make her presence known, and she steps forward into the room. Jack notices her first, and stops mid-sentence to smile at her. The Doctor turns, and her eyes light up when she spots her.

“Yaz!”

“Hey.” Yaz says, feeling slightly awkward. “Are Ryan and Graham up yet?”

“Not yet.” The Doctor replies. She holds up the hand holding her mug. “I made tea! You want some?”

Jack shakes his head furiously, and she notices his own mug is barely touched. The Doctor’s tea-making skills are very distrustful. “It’s okay. I’ll wait for Ryan and Graham.”

“I’ll give you two a moment.” Jack says, sliding from his chair and offering it to Yaz. She accepts it after a brief hesitation. Jack steps into the kitchen, closing the door behind him.

Yaz and the Doctor sit in a silence for a moment, the air between them weighted, until finally the Doctor speaks, gaze trailed on her cup of tea. “I remember, you know. Or, at least, the memories are in my head, kinda like a memento.”

“Oh.” Says Yaz, swallowing anxiously.

The Doctor leans forward and, unusually for her, places her hand over Yaz’s where it rests on the table. “You’re brilliant, Yaz, you know that? You knew exactly what to say to convince me. Them.”

Yaz shrugs, looking at the Doctor’s pale hand placed over her own. “I just knew that wasn’t you. you wouldn’t ever work with those aims unless there were some other reason.”

“And you challenged me.” The Doctor says with a glint in the eye. “Even when I were deep in that loyalty to the Division. You challenged me for it.”

Yaz does not know what to say, and the Doctor simply squeezes her hand lightly before pulling back. Yaz suddenly feels cold.

“The best of humanity…” She murmurs, and Yaz smiles, head lowered to her lap so that the Doctor cannot see.

“I’m so glad you’re back, Doctor.” She admits, voice hoarse, looking up at her.

The Doctor smiles. “Me too. I missed you. all of you.”

Questions are on the tip of Yaz’s tongue, then, the insecurity the Master had left in her about just _where_ the Doctor has been since Gallifrey, but Ryan and Graham are entering the room, and the moment is lost, and so Yaz stores it away for later. 

* * *

They have breakfast, Graham cooking fried egg sandwiches. The Doctor consumes two with relish, Ryan and her having a competition to see who can finish first. She wins.

They are all held in a tentative peace, all knowing that soon it will have to be broken, punctured, and words said, questions asked and answered. They are all building up to it.

After a while, once they have all finished eating and are sipping at their tea, Yaz notices the Doctor send Jack a look, and the man nods, springing up from where he had been leant against the wall. “I think I’ll just go and apologise to next door.” He says. He had feigned ignorance the night previous when the owner of the car they had hijacked had come storming out of their house to see him standing by the car, none the wiser to the fact that the vehicle had been missing for a few hours. “He was quite handsome.”

They wait in silence until they hear the front door shut behind him, and then Yaz feels Ryan’s gaze on her, looking at her as if to prompt ‘go on.’ She looks back at him, saying with raised eyebrows and an indignant expression, ‘why don’t _you_ ask her?’

“Doc, it’s really good to see you again.” Graham says before either of them can speak. “But we gotta know… what’s been going on?”

The Doctor hesitates, obviously thinking where to start, and Yaz cannot help herself when she blurts out, “We thought you were dead. After Gallifrey. The Master told us you survived and went looking for the Division for answers.”

The Doctor blanches, mouth gaping. She struggles to speak. “Yaz, I-… Don’t listen to him. That’s not true.”

“Then what is the truth?” Ryan asks her, leaning forwards, face serious. “Doctor please tell us. We deserve that, don’t we?”

“’Course ya do.” She agrees, but Yaz can see a wariness behind her eyes, almost as if she is scared. Of what?

“We just want to hear the truth, Doc.” Graham says, shooting her a patient smile.

The Doctor sighs, eyes closing for a very brief moment. “Alright.” She says, and then she begins to speak, laying herself open in front of them. “I was coming straight back for you, I swear. Kosharmus took the grenade from me, and I ran, took off in another Tardis, and got back to the old girl. But then,” She sighs, hands splayed out in front of her. “Judoon turned up. They shouldn’t have been able to do that, they shouldn’t have been able to get into the Tardis! But they did, and before I know it, I’m being whisked away to a prison-”

“Prison?!” Yaz blurts out, face blanching. “But wh-why?!”

The Doctor gives her a sad look, something complicated and unknown behind her eyes, before she shrugs. “I don’t actually know _why,_ exactly, the Judoon weren’t very forthcoming.”

“How long were you there?” Graham asks, his face pale, his wrinkles more prominent.

The Doctor’s face scrunches, and that she has to think about it for a moment feels Yaz with dread. “Couldn’t tell you exactly, a few weeks.”

Ryan swears, and the Doctor looks to him in confusion. Then she looks at Graham and Yaz, too, a crease in her brow. “It’s okay.” She tries to reassure them, even though it is most certainly not.

“You were alone that whole time?” Yaz asks, voice barely louder than a whisper. The Doctor, alone, after seeing her planet in ruin, after sacrificing herself to destroy the ruin and the monsters the Master had created from it. Yaz’s eyes fill with tears, and she furiously wipes at them to clear the salt water away. The Doctor looks at her strangely, caught somewhere between confusion and concern.

“Please, Yaz, it’s nothing.”

“Is it? Really?”

The Doctor stares at her long and hard, and Yaz knows she understands what Yaz is trying to get at, her frustration that the Doctor will never admit to what she is thinking and feeling. She waits for her to reply, begging with her eyes for the Doctor at last to open up to them, but she doesn’t, and the moment passes.

“And then what happened?” Ryan asks.

“The Division found me, took me to their ship, and I was stupid enough to open my gob and confront them, and that’s when they got me.” She scrunches her face up. “It’s strange… one moment I’m there, and then suddenly I’m in a field with you lot and them around me, and someone else’s memories in my head the only things connecting the dots. Awful thing, a chameleon arch.” She shudders.

“We thought you were dead. I was mourning you. And then you turned up, not yourself, and I thought I’d lost you.” Yaz admits, tears still catchin at her voice.

“I’m sorry, Yaz, I’m _so_ sorry.” The Doctor says. “I’m sorry that you had to see that. And I’m sorry that the Master turned up and twisted it all before I could explain. He’s _always_ doing that.”

“It seems he causes you lots of trouble.” Graham remarks. “Did he really destroy your planet because of that whole business with what’s his face with the strange headgear and get up?” He asks, referring to Tecteun and bringing a hand up to gesture around his head.

The Doctor laughs faintly at his action and words, but it is only a passing movement of her lips upwards. “He thought it made me better than him. He didn’t like that.”

“That seems a bit much, though.” Ryan remarks. “To burn down ya whole planet.”

The Doctor stares into the far distance as she says. “His whole life has been dictated by what the Timelords put him through. Put us through. And I wasn’t there to stop him because I was so-”

She cuts herself off, standing up suddenly and beginning to pace the room. Yaz is surprised she remained so still for so long, considering the weighty topic discussion.

“Doctor, did you find out after the Master first showed up?” Yaz asks tentatively, already knowing the answer, she thinks. “Was that when you found out about Gallifrey?”

The Doctor looks to her, a tick in her cheek twitching, before she nods, looking away again. Yaz winces. That face, so cut off, shielded. It reminds her of…

“You didn’t tell us.” She says, and it is almost an accusation. “You wouldn’t speak to us. You just got more and more closed off and…” She looks to the two men, who are staring at her with encouragement; they need to speak about this. “We didn’t know what to do. You told us the bare minimum about yourself.”

“Can you blame me?” The Doctor asks hoarsely, hands thrown wide. “From what you’ve seen?”

“But we wanted to help you!” Yaz protests. “And we would have done that if we’d known! Did you- what, did you not trust us? Or were you trying to protect us? What- what _was_ it, Doctor? Because we told you things, so many things about ourselves, and all we got in return was silence!”

The Doctor places her head in her hands, and then runs her fingers through her hair. When she looks up at Yaz, there is such agony in her eyes that Yaz feels chilled to the core. “You’ve seen what I am, now. You’ve seen that I have many, _many,_ lives. Each regeneration I carry the weight of what I was before. Yes, there’s a new body, a new personality, but I can remember those things, I can still _feel_ what it felt like. I wanted this to be a fresh start. _This-”_ She says, gesturing at herself. “was born out of pain and a promise to be better, to be kinder. I’ve lost so many people. You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve to see who I really am.”

“And who is that, Doctor?” Ryan asks. “Because if it’s that… _version_ of yourself we’ve been dealing with the last few days, we say that it weren’t her- you- actually doing those things, not intentionally it was all for yer Division-”

“No, no Ryan, were it that simple.” The Doctor sighs. “The Master, he showed me the truth of all that, just before you lot showed up and I-” She swallows. She does not need to say the words: they are all thinking of what they thought was their final goodbye. “Well, let’s just say I had no idea. Tectuen found me, in a far corner of the universe, a child, alone. They took me back to Gallifrey and he learnt from me the code for regeneration, and from that our society was born. I am the genetic code for the Timelords.”

There is something so heavy in her words. They are so simple, and yet round the corner and the simple stream turns into a vast waterfall, under the surface the words carry a deeper meaning, and if one is not careful one could be pulled over and into the watery mass. One could drown in those words, and Yaz worries the Doctor might already be slipping under the surface. She would be, too, if she found out that news, and although she knows it is no good to create direct comparisons between herself, a human, and the enigma that is the Doctor, _anyone_ would be impacted by that kind of news.

“The Master, he said you had no idea.” Graham says, voice a gruff whisper.

“He wasn’t lying. Not that time.” The Doctor confirms. “They must have finished with me and wiped my memory for good, reset my life.”

“That was incredibly lenient to them, what you did, after all they’ve done to you.” Graham says. 

“I don’t want to know what they made me do.” The Doctor mutters darkly, and then looks up at them, face open, as if she is looking for something. “I just knew I had to act better than they did…”

“You did.” Yaz asserts. “And you’re nothin’ like them, Doctor.”

The Doctor laughs, a harsh, broken sound. “I might try not to be like them, Yaz, but that does not mean I’ve always been successful. I’ve had to make choices, do things I didn’t want to… Maybe it were wrong of me, to keep you in the dark, to make you believe I were just some… _traveller_ with a strange blue box, but I didn’t want you knowing what I can be, what I’ve done, because the moment people know is the moment I begin to loose them. This life is dangerous. I am dangerous. It’s already happened; you came after me on Gallifrey and you almost _died.”_

“But we didn’t because you got us out!” Ryan protests. “It’s not like it’s one way, is it? It’s not like you do something bad and then never anything good.”

“You can lose yourself in your bad actions, Ryan.” The Doctor admits, and in that moment, she seems more vulnerable than she has ever been in front of them. 

“It’s not fair that _you_ should have to take all that on.” Yaz says, and all she can think of the vibrant, electric woman she had first met, who had come crashing through that train roof, and how, after the Master, she had become shadowed with something else, became burnt at the edges, hollowed out somewhat. Maybe she is looking at things too simply, maybe she should be scared in this moment of the Doctor, think she has tricked them all with bright smiles and yellow braces. The Master’s words come back to her: _All you’ve seen is the ridiculous trousers and braces and a smile so trustful she swept you away, and you didn’t think to ask her about her past._ However, the Doctor is baring herself to them in a way she never has before, is _finally_ letting them in, the door is creaking open, and Yaz can see that she has not kept anything for malicious reasons. She thinks of the Doctor, seeing Gallifrey destroyed and not knowing why for months, mourning its loss, devoid of a reason, until the Master had, apparently, shown her. That had been a cruelty, a punishment. The Doctor… she had not been punishing them; she had been trying to protect them.

Yaz wishes that she had never found necessary to think she should.

“That’s the curse of the Timelords, Yaz.” The Doctor says, shrugging with finality. “I have to keep my past choices, my past mistakes, in _here.”_ She says, pointing at her chest. “I try to learn from them, I really do, but… it’s hard.”

“Doc, this is all going to sound very ironic, seein’ how you’re a Timelord and all.” Graham says, “But you can no more go back and change what you’ve done than we can, really, can you? It’s be one of them paradox things.”

The Doctor considers this. “Strictly speaking… yes.”

“So all this beating yourself up now for things you cannot change, keeping it all from us, thinking you needed to protect us from that side of you… well, you needn’t have, because we’ve seen _you._ S’like Yaz says, you’re your own version of yourself, and all you’ve tried to do is run and repent for your past selves’ actions. Your guilt over that now only confirms to us what we’ve known all along, and that’s that you’re complicated, and old as time, but when it comes down to it, you’re always doing your best. And that’s all that can ever be asked, from all of us.”

“Blood hell, grandad, when did you get so philosophical?” Ryan asks.

Graham winks. “I’m not just a handsome face.” He turns back to the Doctor, who has been watching him with an unreadable expression. “You understand what I mean though Doc, right?”

She swallows, and nervously swings her hands about before stuffing them in her pockets. She smiles sheepishly. “I’m not very good at communication. This regeneration, especially, I find it hard… But, I promise I’ll try. No more secrets between us.”

Graham smiles. “That’s all we want, cockle.”

The Doctor smiles, looking at her booted feet, and Yaz stares at her, her heart feeling lighter. The woman who has lost and seen more than Yaz could ever imagine with her short human lifespan, and yet she continues to evolve and regenerate past all she has seen, past all she has felt, and it has made her into what stands in front of Yaz. _The best person I’ve ever met._

“Doc, can I just ask, won’t this all effect ya timeline? I mean, if you’re younger self knows all this stuff, won’t that have some kind of impact?” Graham asks, wiping his hands together as he collects their breakfast plates together for washing up.

The Doctor grimaces, shaking her head. “She will not remember. They will not remember. How many different mes that come between that version of me and this me will not remember. She was a copy, and an ember of a fire, a keepsake of a past life.”

Jack comes bursting in at that moment, his coat collar turned up the wrong way and hair mussed. They all jump and turn as he looks bashful, a grin on his face. “Well, _that_ was interesting.” 

* * *

It is later, and Yaz is sat, alone, on the wall outside Graham’s house, looking out at the landscape beyond. She needed some air, and one very stressful phone call from her mother later, Yaz assures her she is okay, but that she might be away for a while.

She did not have to think twice.

The door cracks open behind her, and the sound of familiar footsteps strolling down the path, until the Doctor comes to stand next to her. From her position on the wall, Yaz is taller than her, and she looks down at the top of a blonde head of hair.

“They’re going to leave soon, I can tell.” The Doctor mutters, with that strange wistful look she gets which speaks to her age.

Yaz wets her lips with her tongue. “Ryan’s got his course, I think he really likes it, and Graham…”

“I understand.” The Doctor says, and she turns to Yaz, hazel eyes filled with impossible depths. Yaz swims in them as she meets the Doctor’s eye. “I do. It _is_ dangerous, my life.”

Yaz cannot help but think of the Doctor’s words, of her confession of having lost so many who chose to step aboard her ship, and Yaz wonders if it should make her pause and re-evaluate the choice she has already made without even having to think about it, whether she should be more cautious of the woman who holds lifetimes in her eyes…. But it doesn’t.

“Would you stay with me? When they go?” The Doctor asks with a vulnerability she has never shown solely in front of Yaz, reserved for her only.

Yaz stands, looking out over Sheffield, laid out in front of her, its calmness from up above comforting. Home.

She loves it, beyond words, but she is not ready to say goodbye to infinite possibilities, different planets and peoples…. And once certain person in particular.

“Yes.” She says without hesitation.

“Why?” The Doctor asks, expression carefully tentative.

“Because I know who _you_ are.” Yaz says with a playful nudge at the Doctor’s shoulder with her elbow, even though her words are serious. She remembers the younger Doctor, the look in her eyes just before she had opened that fob watch, the sacrifice she had made to give Yaz back the woman who stands in front of her. She had been her own person, not just a facsimile of her Doctor, not just a puppet for the Division, but herself. She had had her own ipseity. And Yaz understands now that the woman stood in front of her is made up of the multitudes that came before her, and even though she professes the darkness that came from some of them, Yaz has seen the light that also dwells in her, and has been illuminated by her presence.

She understands the Doctor a lot better now.

“And who is that?” The Doctor asks, voice barely above a whisper.

“The best person I’ve ever met.” Yaz says, echoing her words from those very first days. They are filled with deeper meaning now, but they ring just as true.

The Doctor looks like she wants to say more, but she holds her tongue, her lips twitching upwards. “Yasmin Khan.” She says, the name reverential on her tongue. A precious thing.

Yaz treasures it, like a precious diamond lodged in her heart.

“So, where to next?” She says, once the moment has passed and their gazes have returned to the Sheffield skyline.

“Well,” The Doctor says, blowing air out of her cheeks. “We need to drop Jack off somewhere that can contain him. That Cybermaster needs to be hidden far away in the Tardis, where no one will find it…And then….” She turns to Yaz, a smile which speaks of stars and infinite possibilities, “Anywhere you want, Yasmin Khan.”

“Do you think we’ll run into them again?” _Do you want to run into them again?_

The Doctor shrugs with one shoulder. “Eh. Hard to say. Who knows who we might run into… But I’m not going to go looking for them, not yet.”

Yaz dares to take the Doctor’s arm, sliding her hand around her elbow. “I only want you.”

The Doctor smiles widely, a pure genuine smile like Yaz has not seen for months. It reminds her of what she has been craving. It reminds her of the universe.

And she will take the universe over anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that on that.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and extra thank you to those who have kudosed and commented and joined me on this crazy journey! Reading comments and seeing people reacting to each chapter has been really gratifying and fun- so thank you!
> 
> I have two more stories in the works- one another chameleon arch fic, but different from this one, and then an AU- so look out for those if you so wish, they will be coming soon!
> 
> But for now, thank you once again, stay safe, and my love to everyone! xx

**Author's Note:**

> The Doctor in a leather jacket? No, that wasn't in any way fulfilling a personal need, not at all... *clears throat* 
> 
> Thank you for reading! The next chapter will be up soon!


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